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Love vs. Law 

(Les Dames du Palais) 


By 

Colette Yver 

Translated by 

Mrs. Bradley Gilman 


G. P. Putnam’s Sons 
tTbe Iftnfcfterbocftec ipreas 
New York and London 


1911 




Copyright, 1911 

BY 

G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 



Ube ftnfcberbocber JQocft 


INTRODUCTION 



‘HERE appeared recently in Paris, a remark- 


1 able novel called Les Dames du Palais, 
It ran as a serial, in La Revue de Paris, and later 
it went through thirty editions in book form. 
This brilliant novel is here presented in an English 
version, under the title of Love vs. Law. Its author 
calls herself Colette Yver; but this name is a pseu- 
donym for Madame Hazard. She is still a young 
woman, and was born of an old Breton family, in 
Bergevin, July 28, 1874. Until her marriage with 
Monsieur Auguste Hazard, she lived in Rouen; and 
this novel contains exquisite bits of description sug- 
gested by picturesque nooks of that ancient city. 

Colette Yver began to write at the age of seven- 
teen; her earliest books were for children. Her 
first novel appeared in 1900 and was called La 
Pension de Sphinx. Three years later, came 
Les Cervelines; then La Bergerie in 1904. In 
1905, she wrote her Princesses de Science, her first 
great success, which went through forty editions; 
her Comment s'en vont les Reines came out in that 
same year. Les Dames du Palais was published 
in 1910, and Le Metier du Roi soon after. 

The superiority of the French writers in literary 


111 


IV 


Introduction 


criticism is recognised the world over; and no- 
where is this superiority more evident than in 
their scientific classification of fiction. When a 
new novel appears in France, it is at once classified 
as belonging to one of these several groups: first, 
“Le Roman Psychologique’'; and the novels of 
Paul Bourget belong in this class; then ‘‘Le 
Roman Historique,’’ in which class they place that 
faithful disciple of Goncourt, Monsieur Frangois 
de Nion; and, third, “Le Roman de Moeurs,’' in 
which class are placed the novels of Madame 
Colette Yver; there are also “Le Roman Per- 
sonnel,” “Le Roman Exotique,” and “Le Roman 
Fantaisiste.” 

“Le Roman de Moeurs” is hard to define in 
English. It is not quite our “Problem Novel,” 
for it does not devote itself to one special social 
problem, but, rather, to those changes in social 
customs which lead to many problems; nor does 
it belong to the class of novel which we call the 
“Society novel,” although it contains many realis- 
tic descriptions of social groups in France to-day. 
Love vs. Law {Les Dames du Palais) falls 
naturally into a class of which Mrs. Margaret 
Deland’s novels in America, and Mrs. Humphry 
Ward’s in England are the best examples. In 
Marcella, Mrs. Ward gives us a vivid portrait 
of the modem English girl, with her superficial 
education, her unpractical aspirations, and her 
inevitable mistakes and disappointments, before 
she becomes adjusted to the narrow social environ- 


Introduction 


V 


ment of her age. In this novel, Colette Yver has 
attempted the same task, in much the same 
realistic style ; but the modern French girl-heroine 
is as much more charming than the modern English 
suffragette as is a graceful French gown more 
charming than one of stiff English make. The 
essential material out of which the new type 
of woman is constructed, is much the same the 
world over; but, in Gallic hands, this material 
has been woven into a form of beauty which is 
far more effective than Anglo-Saxon hands could 
create. 

It was said of the Italian women of a certain 
period that they were divided into two classes — 
those who were models for pictures of the Ma- 
donna, and those who wished to be. The French 
Feministe ideal of new womanhood has preserved 
many of the Madonna attributes, while adding 
others more enduring. In the modern French 
novel, the heroines have appealed chiefly to the 
senses; they have been women whose sex has 
been their greatest asset, and whose interest in 
life has been confined chiefly to dainty gowns, 
frivolous amusements, and intrigues with lovers. 
No novelist has ever been more skilful in analysing 
women’s hearts than Marcel Prevost; but, except 
in his great Feministe novel Frederigue the 
women he has chosen to analyse have been bun- 
dles of emotions without morals. It has been left 
for a woman-novelist to describe the latest phase 
of the modem French girl, who is perhaps the 


VI 


Introduction 


logical development of the cloistered Lady Su- 
perior of the old French convent. She now has 
an irresistible appetite for intellectual pursuits 
and is persistently cultivating her mind instead 
of her soul ; and she prefers to devote her time to 
the study of the laws of man rather than to the 
laws of God. 

In Henriette Marcadieu, we have a girl-heroine 
who might have been graduated from Girt on, 
Radcliffe, Bryn Mawr, or Smith College. In 
her intellectual attitude toward life, she comes 
as a surprise to those readers who have known 
only the imperfectly developed heroines of the 
lighter French novels. Nor is Henriette the only 
modem type of woman in this novel; one of the 
peculiar charms of Love vs. Law lies in its great 
variety of charming women characters, all highly 
educated, and eager to compete on equal terms 
with the masculine world in professional pursuits. 

According to Ibsen, “A woman is first of all a 
human being, and then a woman”; but Madame 
Colette Tver's characters are women, first, last, 
and always. They may profess and learnedly dis- 
cuss the doctrine of Individualism, they may glory 
in the free development of their personality; but, 
when they act, they act always from distinctly 
feminine instincts and motives. Although we may 
feel deep sympathy with the Hedda Gabler type 
of woman and the modem English Suffragette, 
we must confess that these offer us somewhat 
morbid and strenuous specimens of the sex, who 


Introduction 


Vll 


would never be agreeable members of the social 
organism. Intellectually the French F6ministes 
have gone a step farther than either the English 
or the Swedish; not only in fiction but in real life 
they have won distinguished places for themselves 
at the Paris Bar; but they have been wise enough 
not to adopt masculine manners and thereby 
arouse masculine contempt. In spite of their 
intellectual achievements, nearly every woman 
in this book exhales a distinctly feminine charm. 

Let a woman combine masculine intellect and 
energy with feminine beauty and feminine grace, 
and the world will soon be prostrate at her feet. 
It was this rare combination of intellect, emotion, 
and physical attraction, which gave the women 
of the French Salon their supreme power. The 
women who have reigned longest over masculine 
hearts have not been of the Pompadour type. 
Women such as Madame de Maintenon, Madame 
Geoffrin, and Ninon de TEnclos may all be said 
to have been products of the higher education, 
but they educated themselves; they studied his- 
tory, politics, and literature, and made of them- 
selves the intelligent sympathetic companions for 
men. They were clever enough, also, to conceal 
their superior intelligence when in the presence of 
inferior “Lords of Creation.” To-day, women 
have far greater intellectual advantages than 
those women could command, but there is danger 
of their becoming rivals rather than companions 
of men; this danger Madame Colette Yver 


Introduction 


viii 

clearly perceives. Increase in the divorce rate 
has gone hand in hand with the industrial inde- 
pendence and the intellectual development of 
woman, all over the world. 

Not many years ago, Carroll Wright, a high 
authority in Social Economics, in an address at 
Smith College, made the following statement: 
^‘I believe that the industrial freedom of women 
will tend temporarily to decrease the marriage 
rate and increase the divorce rate.” In the same 
address he declared: “There is, however, a growing 
sentiment that an educated skilful woman is a 
better and truer life-companion than is an ignorant 
and unskilful one. ” 

This novel of Colette Yver’s (said by a competent 
French critic to be the best “Roman de Moeurs” 
that has appeared in France for ten years) has 
for its problem — marriage as affected by woman’s 
higher education, and entrance into professional 
life. Its author does not analyse the problem 
by giving us long dry discussions of the subject, 
but presents it in dramatic form, and lets the 
characters work out a solution of their own life- 
problem. She shows us several types of marriages 
and several types of divorces, and she reveals the 
gradual steps which lead from one to the other. 
Then she depicts, for the first time, in fiction, 
the divorce problem as seen from the standpoint 
of the innocent child, who has not sinned yet 
must suffer, and who — with his affections tom 
between the parent with whom he lives per- 


Introduction 


IX 


manently, and the parent whom the court permits 
him to visit once a week — never knows the in- 
fluences of true home life. The tragic situation 
of a lad of eleven years, whose parents carry their 
divorce case from one court to another, in order to 
gain possession of him, is one of the most pathetic 
portions of the novel. The boy’s somewhat mor- 
bid character — the direct result of his abnor- 
mal training — is analysed with extreme artistic 
skill. 

As long ago as 1209, a degree of law was con- 
ferred on a beautiful woman in the University of 
Bologna. At that time, for an attractive woman to 
appear before an audience of men was considered 
so remarkable that she was directed to deliver 
her lectures from behind a curtain. Fortunately 
the world moves; and three years ago, in Paris, 
Mademoiselle Helene Miropolsky, a Polish girl 
of great beauty, was admitted to practise law at 
the Paris Bar. She was so eloquent, as well as 
handsome, that crowds flocked to hear her plead 
her cases, and her success induced other young 
girls to follow a legal career. To-day, there are 
many women-lawyers pleading in the French 
courts, and, at a recent dinner given by the Bar, 
these women occupied a prominent place. 

No novel has before been written which would 
be more likely to interest the whole legal world 
than Love vs. Law. The merits and defects of 
the Bench and Bar are admirably portrayed, and 
the vivid descriptions of the court room, from the 


X 


Introduction 


standpoint of both the ambitious lawyer and the 
unscrupulous criminal, are most convincing. 

In America, some of our best law-schools have 
been open to women, for years; but the Law has 
never been a favourite profession for them. As 
a class, women-lawyers have not made a great 
impression on the' American legal world, although 
we have, especially at the New York Bar, an 
increasingly large number of distinguished women 
practising law. French women prefer to have 
women-lawyers defend them in divorce cases, and 
they are also especially successful in the cases of 
juvenile criminals. 

The ability of women to practise law and to argue 
cases in the courts, in all cotmtries, has now been 
proved. The effect of this professional success 
upon their home life is our novelist’s theme ; she has 
chosen for her hero a man of noble character and 
brilliant legal attainments; and his wife, in char- 
acter and intellect, is fully his equal. Both husband 
and wife are well-drawn and original characters, 
and both are worth careful analytical study. 
What these two exceptionally endowed individuals 
made of their mutual life-problem Madame 
Colette Yver tells us, in a novel which is pro- 
foundly interesting and exciting, and which is 
also a real contribution to modem sociology. 

M. R. F. Gilman. 

Canton Corner, Mass., 

July, 1911. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Introduction ...... iii 


CHAPTER 

I. 

BOOK I 

Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns . 

I 

II. 

A Twentieth-Century Eve. 

• 45 

III. 

The Pristine Male . 

. 76 

IV. 

A Great Lawyer’s Clients . 

. 89 

V. 

In Sickness and in Health . 

• 113 

VI. 

A Perilous Victory 

• 151 

VII. 

A Feministe Tea-Party 

• 173 

VIII. 

Her Mind’s Mate 

. 199 

IX. 

A Child’s Dilemma 

• 233 

X. 

The Male’s Egoism 

. 242 

XI. 

The Price of Success . 

. 260 

XII. 

Helpmeet or Rival 

. 276 

XIII. 

A Mother’s Transgression . 

. 296 

XIV. 

Man Puts Asunder 

• 304 


XI 


Contents 


xii 


BOOK II 


CHAPTER 

XV. 

The Super-Woman 

. 

. 

PAGE 

325 

XVI. 

A Sudden Resolution . 

. 

. 

351 

XVII. 

Auto-Suggestion . 

. 

. 

364 

XVIII. 

Woman’s Cause Is Man’s 

. 

. 

377 

XIX. 

The Egotism of Woman is 
FOR Two 

Always 

389 


Love vs. Law 


Love vs. Law 


Book I 
CHAPTER I 

LOVERS IN lawyers’ GOWNS 
T two o’clock, during the recess of the audi- 



ence, a great assembly filled the court room. 
In this assembly stood Andre Velines, one of 
the most distinguished of the younger lawyers, 
who had already served as Secretary of the Con- 
ference and also as Secretary to the President 
of the Bar. Suddenly he exclaimed to the well- 
dressed old lady, whom he was piloting through 
the crowd, ^‘Stop, Grandmother! There she is! 
Do you not see Mademoiselle Marcadieu in her 
legal garb, near that elderly lawyer?” 

Madame Mansart lifted her hand, nervously, 
to her face, and under her glasses her eager black 
eyes sparkled. She was short and stout, and in 
spite of her sixty-nine years she wore the hat of 
a young woman and arranged her hair so as to 
appear the mother rather than the grandmother 


2 


Love vs. Law 


of this young man, of whom she was inordinately 
proud. 

“Look! Look!” exclaimed Andre Velines, lean- 
ing over her with his tall figure. “At the foot of 
the stairs that lead to the Civil Court below, there 
is Fabrezan-Castagnac, the great Fabrezan, the 
President, — ^my old friend, — see him gesticulating 
near her!” 

Thus directed, the old lady looked over the 
heads of the crowd, concentrating her attention 
upon these two figures, — the celebrated leader of 
the Bar, with his huge classic head and his white 
whiskers, and the golden-haired student, with 
her delicate pink and white skin, who was toying 
in an almost infantile manner with the tassel of 
her cap. 

^ ‘ N ow, what do you think of her. Grandmother } ’ ’ 

This tall youth, who had been educated in the 
severe old Roman fashion and whose face was 
thin and bony, could not be called handsome; 
yet health, power, and courage shone in his face. 
At this moment, however, he seemed timid and 
anxious as he hung on the lips of his imperious 
grandmother, who was passing judgment on the 
young girl. 

Madame Mansart dropped her glasses, and 
said nothing. 

Then she took them up again and began slowly 
and critically to examine Henriette Marcadieu, the 
woman whom her grandson loved. Meanwhile 
Andre looked with deep tenderness and affection 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 


3 


at the girl. His heart beat quickly with suppressed 
emotion ; he could feel it pulsating, even through his 
leather portfolio. This charming young girl law- 
student! How could he help admiring her! 

Soon, however, he recovered himself and asked 
his grandmother what she thought of his friend. 

The old lady hesitated and then said, nervously, 
^‘Pretty, certainly; but what strange creatures 
these new women are, Andre!” 

The four double-doors opened, again and again, 
admitting every few moments new groups of 
lawyers. The hum of conversation became deaf- 
ening. When the clock struck, at the end of the 
largest court, the sheriff, dressed in green leather, 
came out from the room where a famous divorce 
suit was being tried. He was followed by a num- 
ber of ill-dressed men and well-gowned women. 
This case had been a long one and all were 
tired. 

Andre Velines and his grandmother were held 
back by the crowd that was coming and going, 
and resumed their former positions. Fabrezan 
and Mademoiselle Marcadieu came from an 
opposite direction; they met under the mon- 
ument of Malesherbes. Madame Mansart, who 
prided herself upon her erudition in being able 
to translate the Latin inscription on the monu- 
ment of Malesherbes, and who enjoyed the fam- 
ous panegyric to the King’s Counsellor, noticed 
neither the chief of the Bar as he strode past her 
nor the slight figure of the girl who held his arm. 


4 


Love vs. Law 


But Henriette Marcadieu and Andr6 Velines 
smiled at each other. 

‘‘Grandmother,” said the young man, who had 
recovered his air of suppressed energy, “will you 
let me show you the great square gallery?” 

With a vivacity which would have been more 
characteristic of a young girl of sixteen, the old 
dark-haired lady was noting the number of white 
stones which paved the floor of the Salle des Pas 
Perdus, and the balcony with its marble balustrade. 
She stood near Andre. Both for an instant looked 
silently at the immense vaulted dome. 

The hall, constructed in a rugged architectural 
style, partly Doric, contained two vaults separated 
by columns. Equipped with two rose windows 
which lighted the ends of the room, it resembled 
a great white cathedral where black-robed monks 
with white bands walked and talked ceaselessly. 

The silk of the gowns quivered, the tassels of the 
caps nodded, and all these slight movements 
made a rustling which seemed like a murmur or 
low rumble. Heard from above it sounded like 
the low roar of the ocean. 

“Yes,” said Madame Mansart, searching with 
her eyes among the noisy crowd in the hope of 
discovering the blonde hair of the young girl- 
lawyer. “What queer women! “I was never an 
idiot, my dear grandson. I read Virgil in my day. 
Intelligence in women is not peculiar to this cen- 
tury ; nevertheless I had no idea of sharing an office 
with your grandfather or of taking up his profes- 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 


5 


sion. This young girl is very distinguished. Her 
father was President of the Bar. As for her family, 

• — I could wish nothing better.” 

Andre Velines breathed rapidly. He looked 
about the great hall in which they stood, and his 
look was determined and dominating. It was 
no longer Henriette that he saw but Fabrezan, 
the famous President of the Bar; Ternisien, the 
successful criminal lawyer; Blondel, the Subtle, 
whom the fashionable world thronged to hear, 
no matter how trifling the case he presented ; Lam- 
blin, who was only ten years older than Andre 
himself, yet whose logical arguments were cele- 
brated; and Lecellier, with his sweet persuasive 
eloquence; and that other handsome young law- 
student with the piercing eyes, Maurice Servais, 
whom the older lawyers still followed with ad- 
miration when he defended minors brought be- 
fore the court for their first offences. 

As Andre gazed over this moving sea of faces, 
where each one represented a name, and was as- 
sociated in his mind with a feeling of friendship, 
of envy, or of contempt, he thought of his own 
future, and looked forward eagerly to the time 
when he would have made his mark among them. 
He would stand between Ternisien, the sentimental 
fire-brand, and the over-critical Blondel; he would 
be the learned lawyer; he would astonish them by 
his brilliant arguments, and always compel the 
court to listen to his caustic words. 

“She is twenty-five years old,” continued 


6 


Love vs. Law 


Madame Mansart. “You are thirty- three. The 
ages are excellent. But what would your parents 
have said to your marrying a woman who works? 

From where they were standing they could see 
pretty Henriette Marcadieu, laughing with her 
old friend. She was young and graceful. Her 
lawyer’s cap was most becoming. Andre’s face 
softened. He loved the young girl, who was 
dressed in a professional garb like his own. He 
loved this great splendid chamber, so full of his- 
torical associations, where the first parliaments of 
Paris had met, and where treaties had been made 
with many nations. He loved these legal robes, 
which had been worn at the marriage feasts of 
kings; and to-day these robes meant for him all 
that he dreamed of longingly in the Palais. 
The place seemed to him almost like a cloister, 
and this black mass of men, all dressed alike, 
resembled monks; they were all of one family, 
and, in spite of their natural jealousies, they 
belonged together, sharing one another’s interests, 
weaknesses, vanities, and glories. These were 
his brethren whom he saw before him, and he 
felt joined to them by tense chords of spiritual 
sympathy. 

“I have nothing to say against the young 
girl,” replied the proud old lady; “the marriage 
will introduce you into the family of an eminent 
judge, and certainly Mademoiselle Marcadieu 
scarcely looks like the female lawyer I had feared 
to see. When I left Rouen to come here to meet 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 


7 


her, I fancied I should behold a masculine and 
eccentric creature, scarcely a woman. To-day 
she seems to me like a dainty bibelot, an exquisite 
^ curio’ in this old Palais de Justice, a fairy-like 
creature; see how she has already vanished out 
of our sight ! This noise that we hear and which 
becomes so deafening, is for me, my son, like the 
voice of the ancient Palais ; these arguments, these 
hundreds of excited lawyers, breaking up house- 
holds which once were happy, separating little 
children from their parents, overturning barriers, 
altering inheritances, dishonouring families, vin- 
dicating one man, crushing another, asking the 
head of a criminal, permitting rogues to escape — 
these make or unmake thousands of lives. I 
seem to see bank certificates, contracts of mar- 
riage, wills, writs, verdicts, hidden in their great 
magician-like sleeves, and I hear their peculiar 
vocabulary their ‘De cujus,’ their professional 
cant, and their wonderful jargon of mortgages 
and leases. We knew something of it in the old 
days and now I seem to hear it again in the uproar 
of this tempest. How can you make me believe, 
Andre, that this young girl, a mere child, who 
plays with the tassel of her legal hood, can be at 
home in this unfeminine atmosphere? Can she 
juggle with these legal terms, study these dry 
problems, and wrinkle her pretty white forehead 
over the Justinian and Napoleonic Codes?” 

A smile of satisfied vanity spread over Andre 
Veline’s face as he said, “She can do it. Grand- 


8 


Love vs. Law 


mother! Her great charm lies in the fact that 
she does not look as though she had the power to 
accomplish it.” 

Andre’s voice expressed his deep emotion, and 
his grandmother was proud of this strong mascu- 
line youth whom she had educated since he 
was five years old. This love of Andre for the 
daughter of President Marcadieu was not a light 
and frivolous love. Andre would be distinguished 
even in his choice of a wife. This would be a 
famous marriage in the annals of the Bench and 
the Bar. Notwithstanding her provincial and 
somewhat old-fashioned ideas, it did not dis- 
please the old lady that the wife of Andre should 
be such a remarkable woman, not only because of 
her birth but also in her profession. 

Andre Velines made a familiar gestiire, rolling 
up the sleeve of his robe and showing his cuffs 
with their pearl and gold studs. He had leaned 
his portfolio on the edge of the marble balustrade, 
and was clasping his hands. 

“Henriette Marcadieu is very keen intellect- 
ually; she delights me occasionally by citing 
cases and decrees in the Court of Appeal. But she 
is not the only woman lawyer here. Grandmother! 
We have a dozen women admitted to the Bar. 
Among them the aged Angely, who endowed the 
^Home for the little disinherited.’ She is too 
old now to argue cases but she is still the oracle 
of the younger women, and her judgment is so 
soimd and her knowledge of the law so great that 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 


9 


she has for years lectured upon law in the girls’ 
High Schools. On most legal questions her advice 
is sought by women, and men go privately to con- 
sult her in her little apartment in Rue Chanoin- 
esse. Then do you see those pretty young girls 
walking together? They are all members of the 
Bar and all brilliant in their profession and also 
charming in their manner. Ah ! There is a certain 
Madame Clementin of whom I shall not say 
much but to whom many things happen. She is, 
however, the wife of a former colleague. Then 
there is that noble unhappy woman, Martinal, 
a young widow who is struggling to support 
her three children and who has, alas, very few 
clients. We have also the distinguished feministe, 
Madame Surgeres, and the amateur advocate, 
Madame Debreyne, and also beautiful Isabelle 
Geronce, the wonder of the Bar, married to a 
surgeon — she is pleading at this moment, in the 
Criminal Court Room, a case of infanticide. 
Will you not come into this room and see how 
this wonderful woman can hold the jury, made up 
of plain bourgeois?” But Madame Mansart was 
absorbed in her grandson’s conversation. 

^‘So many women at the Bar already! Then 
Mademoiselle Marcadieu is not an exception! 
You have to admit all these women to practise 
law beside you, to compete with you. They 
actually are a part of the profession?” 

^'Why not,” said Andre Velines. Women 
are often wonderfully clever in managing business. 


10 


Love vs. Law 


They make good merchants. They have in- 
sight, precision, subtlety, all these legal gifts. 
Women have the same intellectual power that 
men have, I feel sure.” 

Madame Mansart reflected seriously on a 
state of things so new to her. Mademoiselle 
Angely interested her especially. This old maid 
whose advice was sought by the men in her own 
profession, appeared to her extraordinary. She 
wished to know her, yet the thought that she 
had won too great admiration, and this, coupled 
possibly with a little envy of her superiority, led 
her to make a half contemptuous gestme. 

At that moment her grandson said, ^‘See, 
Grandmother, here comes Mademoiselle Angely.” 

A stout woman pushed aside one of the doors 
and entered. Although it was the cold month 
of March, she did not wear a mantle over her 
purple cloth gown, which was ill adjusted to 
her rather awkward figure. She had a heavy 
step, pale and wrinkled cheeks, and an old- 
fashioned hat. Yet when she entered, there was 
shown to her by all this crowded audience a 
certain respectful deference. People stopped and 
bowed and turned to look after her. These were 
trifling indications that showed her to be a person 
of importance. 

This elderly woman-lawyer, whose figure was 
still straight and tall, bowed to the right and left 
returning the smiles of her friends. Then as if 
the violet dress had been a signal for a rally, 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns ii 

Henriette Marcadieu, leaving the President of 
the Bar, came hastily running toward Mile. 
Angely, smiling happily, followed by the three 
inseparable young law-students, who had been jok- 
ing and laughing together in one of the corners of 
the room. Louise Pernet te, J eanne de Louvr al, and 
Marie Morvan, rose in haste. Like three vivacious, 
naughty little nymphs, swinging their caps, they 
pressed through the ranks of the older members of 
the Bar, who were all surrounding this remark- 
able woman. A young widow with a somewhat 
weary face and large blue eyes also approached 
Mademoiselle Angely. This was Madame Mar- 
tinal, who was so small that the weight of her 
gown seemed to crush her. Even her melancholy 
face lighted up with a smile when Mademoiselle 
called her dear girls together and took her hand. 
This plain elderly woman seemed to reign as a 
queen among these younger women whose in- 
telligence she had stimulated and whose life work 
she had inspired. 

Turning to the widow she said, “Well, my 
courageous friend, not too tired to-day?” 

She was full of admiration for the energy of 
this delicate, pale young creature. 

Ten years before in the High School she had 
studied law under Mademoiselle Angely, she had 
distinguished herself and even had been admitted 
to the Bar. Then this young girl, leaving her legal 
studies, had been loved. She had enjoyed five 
years of romantic happiness with a young doctor 


12 


Love vs. Law 


who had only a small income but who was a de- 
voted lover. An attack of diphtheria, through 
which she had nursed him, proved fatal to her 
husband, and in five days she had foimd herself 
a widow; without resources she was obliged to 
educate, unaided, three little sons, who like tiny 
birds were constantly and expectantly holding up 
their empty mouths to be filled. 

Her years of happiness had been too brief to 
allow her wholly to lose her knowledge of law. 
She studied for a doctor’s degree, and then the 
brave woman began to practise, wearing her 
gown over her widow’s weeds. Made clerk to 
the Bench, she worked diligently, and so soon as 
the proceedings were over, hurried to the dressing 
room, hastily dropped her gown, and returned as 
quickly as possible to the fourth floor of the 
Quay de la Megisserie where she had left an aged 
aunt to look after her three little boys. Then 
her heart opened ; her portfolio was flung aside, she 
seized her dear children, covered them with 
kisses, and notwithstanding the commands of 
her doctor, who found her far from robust, she 
opened her dress, and then the lips of the young- 
est child, although he was already thirteen months 
old, began to seek eagerly for the last drop of 
natural milk. 

Now at last she began to attract some attention 
in her profession; a picture of her had been 
exhibited; women went to consult her. A few 
small cases had been given her. A rich woman 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 13 


had engaged her for counsel in a case with a 
dressmaker and had paid her well. Her debts 
were decreasing and she began to feel a certain 
measure of contentment as she saw herself re- 
building her home-nest, so rudely destroyed, and 
at least able to provide for her little ones. She 
had to reorganise her family and play the double 
role of father and mother and she worked proudly, 
independently, her inconsolable grief gradually 
becoming endurable. 

To Mile. Angely’s question, she replied, ^‘Yes! 
I am very well ! My little boys are not difficult to 
manage. People say that I neglect them. What 
a mistake! I have given them their lessons for 
two hours this morning and now they very quietly 
do their little tasks alone. Do come to hear me 
this morning? I am pleading at the Sixth Court. 
I have a hard task to-day. All my strength I am 
reserving for my reply; the President is not an 
easy antagonist; you know him, Mademoiselle! 
Eramburg is the Judge. You admit he never 
allows you to finish your case. Oh, it is frightful 
to have that dissipated old face staring at you and 
those eyes which seem to say: 'Have you any new 
conclusion to draw ? No. Then you can sit down * ; 
just when one is beginning to develop an idea. 
If you were there I would feel less dread. 

Mademoiselle Angely seemed much disturbed. 
"My poor child ! I am so sorry. I have promised 
Madame Geronce to go and listen to the criminal 

ff 


cases. 


14 Love vs. Law 

Henriette Marcadieu, whose laughing eyes had 
a little malice in them, interrupted the conversa- 
tion, saying: 

^‘Oh, Madame Geronce! we do not go to hear 
her, but to see her.’' 

And at this comment on the beauty of this 
lawyer, who as the President of the Bar once said, 
^‘Pleaded with her physique,” Angely exchanged 
significant glances with the young women sur- 
rounding her. Louise Pernette, a blonde with 
a large, tender mouth, and a figure as flexible as 
a reed, which swayed gracefully under her robe, 
said, stifling a laugh : 

“When she passes the Galerie Lamoignon, 
the lawyers all have to move aside to give 
her room, her train is so long and her skirts so 
full.” 

Jeanne de Louvral recalled the sheath gown 
of Isabelle Geronce and Marie Morvan her 
overtrimmed bodices. The high collars of Isa- 
belle Geronce, according to Parisian gossip, had 
become almost scandalous. This new fashion 
had not acquired favour among these young 
feminine lawyers, who had preferred to adopt 
simple, low linen collars, which suited their legal 
gowns much better. But the great feministe, Ma- 
dame Geronce, had wished to put her femininity 
even into her masculine role and had preferred 
to choose a collar that was conspicuous as being 
of the latest and most ultra-fashion. “For,” said 
she, “we must think of the audience as gathered 


Lovers in Lawyers' Gowns 15 

in a drawing-room, and we women must don our 
most effective costumes. 

To many of the earnest-eyed young girls gath- 
ered in the famous court room, this statement 
seemed absurdly frivolous, and in discussing it 
they forgot their little clients of the Roquette or 
the young, unfaithful servants who had been given 
them to defend. With maternal wisdom Mile. 
Angely recalled them to their work, saying, 
^‘Louise Pemette, has the case of your yotmg 
client come up yet?” 

Louise made an impatient gesture, ‘‘On the 
eighth. Mademoiselle.” 

She was so successful in imitating the dry, 
weary accent of the President in uttering the 
phrase that she broke into more laughter and hid 
her face on the shoulder of her friend, Henriette 
Marcadieu. Then, suddenly saddened at the 
memory of the miserable little thief she was to 
defend, she stopped smiling and said: “Poor little 
brat, he is delicious, not really wicked! You 
should have seen how he wept when I told him 
how wrong it was to rob that excellent grocer 
of his boxes of sardines! I do hope that he will 
be acquitted.” 

There was much coming and going around 
their group, a perpetual movement of hats, and 
a shimmering of light ribands. The murmur of 
conversation concealed the noise of the moving 
footsteps, making the sound of the innumerable 
shoes on the pavement seem almost rhythmical. 


i6 


Love vs. Law 


The feet came and went regularly, only a glimpse 
of the stocking being seen coming from under the 
trousers. In the imagination of Madame Man- 
sart fortunes changed hands, questions relating 
to millions of francs were discussed as well as 
questions which related to ridiculous trifles. Two 
adversaries quarrelled fiercely over a badly made 
corset, an anonymous letter, or a defective roof. 
As they passed, the busiest of the older lawyers 
found time to gaze with admiration at the charm- 
ing Henriette Marcadieu and Louise Pemette. The 
expression on the faces of the older men showed 
patient endurance, on the celebrated ones, content- 
ment ; but the younger lawyers watched the cases 
eagerly, in this court room which resembled a lake 
where the large fish devoured the little fish; the 
little fish saw with terror the sudden growth of repu- 
tations, and expressed themselves with more distrust 
than gallantry at the entrance of these pretty young 
girls to whom all the wealthy women clients now 
went. Suddenly Louise Pemette blushed to the 
roots of her hair. Maurice Servais, the great shy 
boy, with the air of an adolescent, who had ripened 
too quickly, was approaching. He was famous for 
defending minors, and members of the Bar listened 
to his arguments with admiration, and often spoke 
of his growing reputation. 

*‘Good morning,” said Louise Pemette, as he 
took her hand. 

^‘Good morning,” said Maurice. This was 
all that was heard. 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 17 

But the large, tender mouth of Louise trembied, 
and under the folds of her gown her slight figure 
seemed to bend towards him. 

Mademoiselle Angely, like a sentimental single 
woman, appeared disturbed, and nervously pulled 
her basque down over her large hips. She was 
not ignorant of this legal love affair. Louise and 
Maurice were devoted to each other; it was a 
pathetic little story. Both were poor and could 
not dream yet of starting a home, and it was sad 
to see them working desperately at their pro- 
fessions, and vainly struggling for success. Mau- 
rice had ability and found plenty of work, but 
as yet made little money. However, the lovers 
had their moments of keen yotmg joy. The 
Palais, where they were well known, saw them 
together each day, and the Galerie de Saint Louis, 
the mysterious vestibule of the Court of Appeals, 
offered them a spot for many delightful t6te-a- 
tete meetings. The old messenger at the door 
discreetly turned his head, as they sat down, 
close together, on a bench talking over their cases 
and smihng silently on one another. She was 
twenty years old and he was twenty-five. The 
youthfulness of their coquetry mingled strangely 
with their serious professional occupations. Both 
were lawyers, both defended young criminals; 
and their hearts, softened by their mutual love, 
clung affectionately to their juvenile clients. 
Together they planned in an ideal way their 
generous projects for the amelioration of society. 


i8 


Love vs. Law 


Louise loved even the little criminals defended 
by Maurice, and Maurice loved those defended by 
Louise. When Mademoiselle Pemette pleaded, 
Maurice was always near by, in the bench with the 
lawyers; and Louise was to be found behind 
Maurice when he appeared in court. 

Their romance was not a secret one. All the 
Bar knew its history. Fabrezan, the President, 
found this tender, young flower of love, pushing 
its way up through the dry soil of the grey old 
Palace, most refreshing; and he did what he could 
to help the lovers. Maurice’s delivery was as yet 
halting and imperfect, but it had promise, and 
Fabrezan had more than once given him an 
opportunity to plead in civil cases. Louise was 
always timid and hasty at the Bar. She showed 
more interest in the work than talent. One day 
she had broken down and wept in court. She 
studied persistently, learned by heart books of 
jurisprudence, but made very little income. Ser- 
vais had an office with another lawyer, and he 
worked night and day ; but neither of them made 
half enough money to start a home. However, 
they hoped now to marry in two years. 

Suddenly Henriette Marcadieu, who, notwith- 
standing her mouse-like mien, had eyes that saw 
everything, said in a low voice to her friends : 

“See! There is Monsieur Alembert. I feel 
sure that he intends to engage Monsieur Fabrezan 
for his trial. ” 

Among the crowd of lawyers and law-students 


Lovers in Lawyers' Gowns 


19 


there were also many litigants; some women, 
who, having begun at the roulette table in a 
spirit of mischief, had developed a passion 
for gambling, and through their folly had been 
ruined by debts and were always involved in 
litigation. 

There was one woman in particular, Madame 
Gevigne, who told every new-comer the extra- 
ordinary tale of her trials with her creditors. 

Then there was Madame Leroy-Mathalin, who 
had three cases now before the court ; and, finally, 
at the door there appeared a very young and 
distinguished-looking man who fingered his long 
beard restlessly and seemed to be looking anx- 
iously for some one. 

Curious to know who he was, Louise Pemette 
turned toward Mademoiselle Marcadieu, and 
asked, ‘‘What is his case?’’ 

This word “case” is a mystical word in the 
ears of young lawyers, provoking envy, opening 
visions, exciting ambitions and jealousy; there 
is not a member of the Bar who can hear it coldly. 

Then Henriette Marcadieu explained: “That 
is an engineer, the divorced husband of a friend 
of mamma’s, Suzanne Marty. The divorce was 
granted, last June, at the first trial, to the woman. 
This poor Alembert has been unfaithful, I believe. 
His crime was not great but Suzanne refused to 
forgive him. The unfortunate part of the affair 
is that they have a son, eleven years old, who 
has been given to the mother. Monsieur Alem- 


20 


Love vs. Law 


bert adores his son, he will not submit to this 
decision, and is going to have a new trial to get 
possession of him. That is a fearful situa- 
tion, is it not? This man and this woman, 
who have nothing in common but affection for 
their child, seem likely to dispute about it in 
court for an indefinite period. Fabrezan is for 
Alembert.” 

“ Who is the counsel for the wife?” inquired Ma- 
dame Martinal, all at once interested in this 
parental drama. Henriette Marcadieu made an 
evasive gesture ; she did not know, no one knew 
yet. So far Madame Marty had not chosen. 
Bertiny, who had obtained her divorce in June, 
had died during the vacation. She had not yet 
selected a new counsel, for rmtil now it had not 
been known whether the court would permit a 
new trial. Henriette had only recently heard 
about the case, through the half -joking remarks 
of Fabrezan ; to-day he had been telling her about 
it, when the arrival of Mademoiselle Angely had 
stopped the conversation. 

‘^Ah! I knew very well,” said she, ^‘that Mons. 
Alembert was looking for his coimsel. He has 
found him now and has joined him. They are 
talking together.” 

And all followed with their eyes the young 
engineer and the lawyer, who, with slow steps, 
took their places in the procession of people coming 
and going. But no one felt more sympathy and 
tenderness for Alembert than poor, weary little 


21 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 

Madame Martinal. The wretched man had lost 
his courage, and given himself up to his grief at 
the loss of his son, and the old lawyer every few 
moments laid his hand on his shoulder with a 
gesture of profoimd sympathy. At times, in 
telling his story to Fabrezan, the young father 
waved his hand back and forth softly as if smooth- 
ing his child’s head. 

Madame Martinal dreamed of her three dear 
ones. The oldest was now nine years old. He 
was ardent, imaginative, and loving. What if 
some one should take him from her! At this 
thought her heart almost stopped. She deliber- 
ately turned her thoughts to business affairs. 

A client had come, the evening before, to pay 
her some fees. She had had this day many lu- 
crative consultations, and she recollected three 
pretty little suits of boys’ clothes which she had 
seen that morning in a shop-window. They were 
made to fit children of about the age of her little 
ones. She smiled to think of the tiny little necks 
coming out of the large sailor collars, and the 
pretty little bodies all swathed in blue cloth. But 
these happy thoughts only made her more compas- 
sionate for the unhappy father who knew his son 
was alive and yet had lost him. 

Absorbed in her thoughts, which ran on the 
affairs which most closely touched her daily life, 
she had not observed the skill of Madame Leroy- 
Mathalin, who had three cases in court and who 
had successfully managed to join Mademoiselle 


22 


Love vs. Law 


Angely, whose assistance she wished to secure. 
She was a woman of forty-five, noticeably short 
and heavy, and her hat, no longer fresh, sat care- 
lessly on her tmcombed wig. But the younger 
members of the Bar did not think of laughing at 
the odd-looking creature, who stood in a humble 
attitude before their adored instructor. A client 
always commands the respect of lawyers. He is 
always listened to with politeness, and his moral 
weaknesses are pardoned and gravely excused by 
his counsel. His personality is always sacred 
whether he be wise or foolish. 

Then Madame Leroy -Mathalin began her 
complaints regarding repairs which were tak- 
ing place in her apartment in the Boulevard 
St. Germain. She had caught cold, through a 
bad draught of air, and the cold had affected 
her eyes, and with her large gloved fingers she 
lowered her eyelid, showing a bloodshot eye. 
Medical treatment had done no good, reading was 
forbidden. By auto-suggestion her tears flowed 
freely. She had armed herself with many medical 
certificates, and proposed to enter a suit for dam- 
ages. She estimated the injury caused to be 
worth five thousand francs; and, ending in the 
exact manner of a lawyer addressing the court, 
she said: “The court will name the fine.” 

Mademoiselle Angely, professor of law rather 
than an advocate, did not approve a resort to 
unnecessary litigation. She tried to dissuade 
this woman from having a new trial, but Madame 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 23 

Leroy-Mathalin refused to listen. She was 
desperately unhappy. This business would kill 
her ; and, ignorant of legal methods, she foolishly 
blamed President Marcadieu, calling him an 
^‘Old Monkey.” Her case against the writer 
of anonymous letters was now being tried. M. 
Thaddee-Mira, who defended her before the 
Eighth Court, had many difficulties with experts 
on handwriting, and was charging her large fees. 
That was why she had thought of Mademoiselle 
Angely, whose reputation inspired her with so 
much confidence ; and also, between women, there 
would be less difficulty about money. 

A little farther on was Madame Gevigne, another 
client who had been snapped up by the Clemen- 
tin household, — ^the husband had taken up all 
her debts for collection. Monsieur and Madame 
Clementin, both lawyers, were mean, sour, and 
rough-handed. Unfortunate themselves, they lived 
on expedients. The Gevignes were their prey. The 
efforts of the Clementins to secure clients were 
notorious all over the court. It was rumoured 
that they had, in Menilmontant, a secret office 
where they held consultation with the worst 
characters in Paris, and where they consented to 
form connections with very disreputable members 
of society. The client whose case was now being 
heard was reprimanding her lawyer sternly at 
this moment. 

A voice near Henriette said: Mademoiselle 
Marcadieu 


24 


Love vs. Law 


The young lawyer turned round, and found 
Andre Velines and his grandmother close beside 
her. At once the young girl became serious. An 
instinct led her to loosen her toque and assure 
herself that it was not too far back on her head. 
Standing in an attitude not unlike Andre's she 
held under her left arm her professional portfolio. 
He had already argued one case at noon, whereas 
she was waiting to appear before the Bar at four 
o'clock for instructions. Madame Mansart, with 
her keen eyes, noted this strange similarity in 
their appearance and habits. 

^'Mademoiselle Marcadieu, " said Velines, 
"will you permit me to present you to my grand- 
mother, who has come to visit the court?" 

Henriette was not easily deceived, and she knew 
that the true object of the visit was to see her 
rather than the court-house. She knew that 
Andre loved her; she knew that this proud young 
lawyer was devoted to her, but the customs of 
the class to which he belonged led him to wish 
for the approval of his relatives, who might 
be a little alarmed at his betrothing himself to 
a woman of her advanced education and pro- 
fession. Henriette would have preferred more 
romance, a scorn of conventionalities, and a 
declaration of his love as open as that of Maurice 
Servais for Louise Pemette. Nevertheless, Andre 
satisfied her ideals. She would be proud of 
such a husband, so warm in his feelings, so re- 
spected by his profession, and so admired by the 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 25 


public for his oratorical talent. A certain fas- 
cinating coquetry led her to try and win the old 
lady’s affection by a gentle, reserved manner, 
which seemed to ask pardon of the conservative 
old lady for her masculine garb. 

Charmed at first, Madame Mansart for a time 
watched her critically, but finally succumbed to 
the younger woman’s beauty and personal fascina- 
tion. Mademoiselle, I am going to say frankly 
that I had little sympathy with women-lawyers 
and doctors; they seemed to me to wish only to 
ape men; but to-day you have reconciled me to 
them.” 

‘^Oh, our profession does not prevent our being 
women, ” responded Henriette. 

Madame Mansart smiled and expressed in her 
face her sudden change of opinion as she lis- 
tened sympathetically to this gentle, charming 
young girl. “That is true; you are not like scien- 
tific women whose brutal and absorbing studies 
are apt to dry up their emotions and kill their 
souls. You can have your study at home, where 
you can work near your mother or near your 
husband. You need pass scarcely more than a 
few hours daily in court. Then there is in the 
legal profession an opportunity to teach the rights 
of the client; and I believe thoroughly in the 
educational work of women. I would prefer the 
work of the women professors which is like that 
of literary women ; and thus you would be free to 
spend many hours in more feminine occupations!” 


26 


Love vs. Law 


“That is true/' answered Henriette, in her turn, 
somewhat proudly. “I know how to sew.” 

I These words touched the heart of Madame 
Mansart. “How delightful! I am charmed to 
see that a person of your rare gifts and talents 
has also this domestic taste. My grandson has 
told me of your brilliant intellectual power!” 
Then, carried away by her enthusiasm, she added : 
“Mademoiselle, your parents are most fortunate 
in their daughter, and I would like to congratu- 
late them in person, if I knew on what day they 
could receive me.” 

Henriette understood ; she grew pale, and 
bowed her head. Andre remained silent, but he 
had never before analysed his love for Henriette 
so fully. It was not a light passing fancy for 
a comrade in his legal studies, with whom he 
could have a light intrigue between his cases at 
court and forget as soon as the doors of the court 
room closed behind him. It was the gift of 
himself that he was ready to make in his marriage, 
the great surrender of his liberty, his heart, his 
life. It was this love that was precious in the 
eyes of the woman he loved, and Henriette was 
deeply touched by what she read in his face. 
When she lifted her eyes they were moist, and 
she said in a voice full of feeling: “My mother 
will be delighted to see you on Thursday, I 
think.” 

She knew that there would be other empty offi- 
cial formalities to be gone through, but that these 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 


27 


few words, at this moment, constituted the true 
engagement between her and Velines. They 
looked at each other, still smiling; but there had 
been revealed to Henriette something very sweet 
and noble in Andre’s heart. 

“Do you argue a case to-day?” asked Andre. 

“No. I go at four o’clock into the little court 
room, for instructions about my case. It is a rob- 
bery in a great store. But, while waiting, I wish to 
go into the upper court and hear Blondel in this 
famous case they call Parisian Divorce.” 

Silently the large court room had been emptied 
of people. But a slow movement of floating sleeves 
and robes could be seen, as the white stairway 
which led directly to the square gallery and the 
upper court rooms filled. The large doors of the 
first room opened and shut continually, and a crowd 
of curious people rushed up-stairs to listen to the 
arguments of this divorce case which had made the 
latest scandal. The lawyers left the building, 
groups broke up, and the audience hurried in the 
direction of the Criminal Court Room. 

Henriette Marcadieu said “Adieu” to the old 
lady. She noted the warmth of the pressure when 
her bare hand was held closely between the two 
gloved ones. She said to herself, “I shall love 
this good grandmother intensely.” Then, turning 
toward Andre, she hesitated a moment. Both felt 
embarrassed. They were more timid than ever 
before. Andre said, pointing to one of the court 
rooms, “I will perhaps find you there very soon. 


28 


Love vs. Law 


I wish to be present when the sentence is pro- 
nounced.” 

Then he saw her walk through the now de- 
serted hall, the folds of her silk gown hiding the 
grace of her slender figure. Andre Velines thought 
her exquisite. She looked like a gentle vestal 
virgin, under the dome of this great legal temple. 
He recollected that he had once heard her argue a 
case with graceful, tender words, and that even the 
President had to smile on her. When he thought 
that this noble young girl might some time defend 
vile women, wicked and proud of their wicked- 
ness, he was touched by her delicacy. How he 
longed to protect her ! How he would guide her ! 
Ah, what strength he felt as he thought of the 
power of his eloquence, the power of his success ! 
All his masculinity would be consecrated to this 
dear, ambitious, little wife ; he would help her to 
be famous, and he imagined her triumphs — her 
success which she should chiefiy owe to him ! 

The weakness of Henriette would make her 
even the dearer. She should grow in his shadow. 
Their mutual interest in their profession should be 
one more tie between their sympathetic minds. 

“What a dear grandmother,” murmured he, as 
he pressed his arm against the arm of the old 
lady. “Thank you.” 

Madame Mansart, who always concealed her 
emotion, said a little dryly: “Do not thank me. 
She has pleased me. She is the wife whom you 
need. She is better capable of appreciating your 


Lovers in Lawyers' Gowns 29 


worth than a vain, ignorant, little peacock. She 
will truly be a friend and partner for you, and she 
will also adore you. You can confide in her the 
thousand petty professional trials which an am- 
bitious man has to conceal from the world. 

‘‘Yes,” replied Velines, thoughtfully. “She 
will adore me!” 

His eyes suddenly became dreamy. How his 
great office in the “Place Dauphine” would be 
changed when this young, studious intellectual 
companion arrived there I What agreeable consul- 
tations! What intellectual amusements! What 
sympathetic talk! They would discuss at length 
all the little points of law, contracts, and revision 
of judgment. For the young man was an enthu- 
siast in his profession, and his chief interest in life 
was in law and justice. A mere society woman 
would have been only bored by these conversations ; 
they would have been unintelligible and desper- 
ately tedious to her ; but Henriette would delight 
in them, and would be even more absorbed than 
he in their profession. She might even at times 
suggest to him certain ingenious points in his 
cases. Yes, she would be able to assist him in 
his profession. Thus thinking, Andre descended 
the steps and brought his grandmother, by the 
Marchande Gallery, to the Court of Assizes. 

The three yoimg girl law- students, were walk- 
ing in the same direction and joking pleasantly to- 
gether. Madame Martinal had placed on one of 
the benches near the wall her black voluminous 


30 


Love vs. Law 


portfolio ; and she searched hastily through a bun- 
dle of papers, fearing lest an important item might 
be missing, at the last moment. Her beautiful 
grey eyes, which had often been filled with tears, 
became tense, eager, and anxious. All her argu- 
ments, prepared the previous night, she went over 
again in her mind. O, this trial! A sum of 
money demanded by a seamstress from a great 
dressmaker; she had gained the case before one 
court already, and she feared to lose it now ! Al- 
ways impressionable, she felt her heart beat rapidly 
when she thought of facing the famous President. 

“No, Madame, I do not argue cases; I never 
argue cases”; said Mademoiselle Angely firmly to 
Madame Leroy-Mathalin. For a long time this 
irritating woman had been urging her to take her 
case, pressing her claims with the annoying per- 
sistency of an insect, which persists in buzzing near 
you. Mademoiselle Angely could not get away 
from her. Suddenly an idea occurred to her; this 
affair of Madame Leroy-Mathalin would be lucra- 
tive ; the woman was generous and did not count 
the cost of her lawyer’s services. Why not re- 
commend to her Madame Martinal, so clever and 
deserving, with her three hungry little mouths to 
feed? Or the charming Louise Pemette, so tender 
and loving and so eager to purchase by her work 
and her success the right to happiness? Then 
Mademoiselle Angely hesitated. Here was a diffi- 
cult point to decide. Both the poetic romance of 
Louise and the maternal love of Madame Martinal 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 31 

touched her. If she recommended Madame Mar- 
tinal to this client would she not disregard 
Louise’s delightful idyl? And yet was not this 
courageous widow struggling for the right to live? 

Mademoiselle Angely coughed nervously several 
times, but it was the romance of Louise that came 
closest to the heart of the idealistic old maid. 

^‘Follow my advice and confide your case to one 
of our young lawyers, Mademoiselle Pernette! I 
have great respect for her judgment and her know- 
ledge of law; then she has an original mind which 
is likely to give her insight into the most difficult 
cases. Wait a moment and let me introduce you 
to her!” 

In the Supreme Court the clients waited for their 
cases in absolute silence. It was a dark, gloomy, 
November afternoon, and this court was already 
lighted with electric lights. At the end of the 
large room these lights, under their green porcelain 
shades with their slender copper fixtures, looked 
like curious and brilliant green hats. Behind them 
were the three black figures of the judges, with 
their white immovable faces. At the Bar, before 
the lighted pretorium and the benches which could 
still be seen in the pale daylight, there stood out, as 
if in silhouette, a black shadow which was Master 
Blondel, the late President, whose sleeves rustled 
like the beating of wings. 

He was a tactful little man with a pointed nose 
and white whiskers, who turned his profile towards 
his adversary. With wonderful logic and no ora- 


32 


Love vs. Law 


torical flights he spoke in a very low, even tone. 
As counsel for the defence, he reviewed the history 
of his client's marriage with the Vicomte, an ama- 
teur artist, and then developed fully the reasons for 
the separation. 

All the young lawyers leaned forward to see the 
expression of his face. There were on the hats of 
some women in the audience very long waving 
plumes, which trembled when a breath of air came 
from the open door. Some poorly dressed men in 
the audience, idlers who had come from curiosity, 
were sleeping and breathing quietly. Others were 
scarcely listening, so accustomed were they to the 
trivial personalities served up to them at each 
divorce trial. At the lower end of the court room 
a crowd of people were going toward the door. 
Among them was Henriette Marcadieu, restless and 
inattentive. She had not wished to-day to take 
a place near the other members of the Bar. She 
waited here in a tense, nervous frame of mind, 
watching the door and growing pale and red each 
time that it opened. 

These dear familiar objects lost, to her eyes, their 
familiar aspect. She saw everything in rose-colours. 
The world seemed full of poetry. She loved Velines, 
and Velines loved her; a more joyous humming 
than that of a hive full of bees seemed to sound in 
her ears. Even in her heart wonderful new emo- 
tions were born. There is always a miracle when 
a young girl renounces her youthful egotism, her 
pride and her vanity, that necessary egotism 


Lovers in Lawyers' Gowns 33 


which has developed her personality, and finds 
her highest joy in absolute devotion, the subtle 
origin of all feminine love. The philosophical 
law-student, with all her positive ideas, knew at 
last the fulfilment of her dream. At the thought 
of Andre, she murmured softly to herself, “To 
make his happiness.” 

At the tribunal Master Blondel, with his low, 
clear voice said, “Gentlemen, my client carried 
into her marriage bright hopes and generous affec- 
tion. You have now heard in all this dry testimony 
an exposition of the misery which she endured. 
My adversary argues that these wrongs for which 
she reproached her husband are slight, chiefly im- 
aginary and psychological, but gentlemen ” 

At times the eyes of Henriette attached them- 
selves with impatience to the little gold figures on 
the clock, the hands of which could be scarcely 
seen in the gloomy room, but which said five min- 
utes of three — ^if he should not come soon she must 
return to the outer court room. Then arousing 
herself, she said, “How foolishly excited I am.” 

This young girl, already doctor of law, was not 
one of those sweet, young, vestal virgins, for whom 
life is only a beautiful fairy story. She knew the 
ugly facts, but she knew them only through her 
study of her profession and not through her 
personal experience. Brought up carefully by ex- 
cellent bourgeois parents, she had kept the in- 
nocence of the well-educated girls of her class. The 
moment had now come when she could look for- 


3 


34 


Love vs. Law 


ward, when she was justified in looking forward, to 
her betrothal, when she could even dream of the 
first kiss! This, to be sure, would take place in 
the parents’ great, gloomy drawing-room, with the 
usual solemnity and with a ceremonial which would 
conform to the family traditions. Then they 
would pledge themselves to each other. Velines 
would bend forward quietly and kiss her on the 
forehead. At the thought of this kiss the colour 
rushed to the young girl’s face, and a sudden 
feeling of tenderness made her young heart beat 
violently. 

Justice Blondel continued, in a low voice, push- 
ing aside his voluminous sleeves: ^‘We have 
not to face now a tragedy of brutal sin, but a 
bitter comedy where the souls alone suffer, where 
a delicate woman is made to suffer the most cruel 
martyrdom of which she is capable. Into this 
home, which was a modem home, with a husband 
and wife who were both artists, discord came. 
At first no one suspected it. You have heard the 
testimony of the witnesses. You recognise the 
insidious, venomous jealousy of the man.” 

Henriette Marcadieu listened indifferently to the 
story of this conjugal shipwreck, listened with the 
serene indifference of a young lover whose happi- 
ness is secure. At this moment, the door opened ; 
and Andre Velines, pale, with upright head, began 
to search with his eyes the dimly lighted court 
room. 

At last their eyes met. Then a tender, loving 


Lovers in Lawyers' Gowns 


35 


smile broke simultaneously over both young faces 
like a gentle prelude to a harmonious duet. The 
young man was the more embarrassed ; and, to re- 
cover himself, he asked, pointing to Blondel, “Is 
he doing well?” 

“Yes, he speaks forcibly as usual,” replied 
Henriette, giving credit to her old teacher, and 
half ashamed that she had heard so little that he 
had been saying. 

“Blondel,” replied the young man, making a 
great effort to speak calmly, “always astonishes 
me. ” 

Both for a moment turned to listen to his perora- 
tion. But for once the ambitious Velines was too 
much in love and too near Henriette to listen 
attentively to the voice which was vibrating 
with emotion and holding the great audience in 
thrall. 

Important words had been spoken between these 
young people that afternoon. Both realised that 
it meant an engagement. Was it true that this 
woman would soon be his wife? Listening to her 
quiet breathing, so near him, a sudden desire for 
certainty came to Andre; he must know if this 
young girl, whom for two years he had known so 
intimately, was really to belong to him. He had 
watched her so often, fearing lest she might love 
some other man. To-day, on the eve perhaps of 
their betrothal, he had become impatient, he could 
not wait any longer, he must learn from her own lips 
his happiness; he could no longer be contented 


36 


Love vs. Law 


with the hope of happiness, he must have absolute 
knowledge. 

Suddenly he noticed that many of the strangers 
present were looking at Henriette with ciuiosity, 
the curiosity which is still aroused in the public 
by a woman who wears a professional gown. 
Without thinking, he pushed her toward the first 
window as the crowd grouped itself about the 
centre of the room. Henriette and Velines found 
themselves alone, leaning against the window 
frame. “Does it not annoy you to be here 
alone,” he asked, “and attracting so much atten- 
tion from the crowd, and also the attention of the 
Bar, with only yourself to depend on?” 

She replied, seriously, “At first it did annoy me. 
But I am an old lawyer now and I am quite used 
to it. I have gained greatly in comage. ” 

There was a little uneasiness evident in the tone 
of the young girl. Notwithstanding her youth- 
fulness, she longed to develop her own individ. 
uality , she desired to live her own chosen life ; and 
Andre had for a moment a slight fear of this 
individuality, this will which seemed capable of 
asserting itself imperiously against his and even of 
resisting his masculinity. However, this slight 
hesitation did not take away his anguished need 
of knowing that he was loved. In a low, dry voice 
he whispered: “Would you not be happier here, 
if instead of facing alone the ciuriosity of these 
people who find the role of a woman-lawyer a 
novelty, you felt always beside you an arm wait- 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 37 


ing for you to lean upon, a friend always near, 
watching over you, a companion?’' 

Henriette was discovering with delight that this 
rather calm, reserved man had in his soul a depth 
of sentiment which he had jealously concealed, 
and only now unveiled for her alone. “I have 
always been able to take care of myself,” she 
answered, oppressed by an unknown emotion. “I 
have always found in myself resources which have 
helped me extricate myself from all difficulties.” 

^‘Then,” replied Andre, “you would not desire 
to lean on any one, to confide everything to an- 
other, to share your responsibilities?” 

“I do not know — I have never thought of such 
things.” 

Henriette was excited, but showed her excite- 
ment very little, restraining the words which were 
nearly on her lips. 

She heard Andre say in a very low tone : “ But 

if you shared your burdens with one who loved 
you?” 

Silence reigned in the court room. Justice 
Blondel was silent, seated leaning against the back 
of his bench. The three judges talked together; 
at the left was the President. There were three 
heads seen busily reading papers under one lamp. 
There was some whispering, and something a little 
tragic in the atmosphere. 

The cord which, after all this quarrelling, joined 
irrevocably the two hostile parents, was to be 
severed. The word of one man was to decide with 


38 


Love vs. Law 


which parent the child was to live. And these 
two refined, intellectual parents, whose life was to 
be eternally influenced by this decision, remained 
absent from the court room and would hear the 
judge’s decision only some hours after it was 
announced. 

Andre Velines closed his eyes; his hand was over 
his forehead. Henriette could scarcely hear his 
next words. They were almost whispered: “You 
know all now — you understand my dreams.” 

The large audience which surrounded them, 
and were breathlessly awaiting the opinion of the 
judges, scarcely troubled the young lovers. They 
had turned away from the darkness toward the 
window. Suddenly Velines trembled; for, under 
the sleeve of his large cloak, he felt a soft, timid 
hand touching, yes, pressing his, and on the end 
of Henriette’s eyelash, he saw glisten a tear. 

“Not here, Velines. Later you can tell me 
all this. I will think over your words. Now I 
will only say that I trust you wholly. ” Then, with 
that mingling of reason and emotion which made 
the charm of her temperament, she continued, 
quietly, although she was deeply stirred by 
the tenderness of Andrd’s passion, “While you 
have been studying me, I have been studying 
you also; and I will say frankly that I have not 
discovered anything, either in your acts or your 
words, that is evil. I honour you, my friend.” 

“And you, Henriette, you are for me a gentle, 
pure young girl. I cannot express how much 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 39 


reverence goes to you with my love. Oh, we 
shall be wonderfully happy.*’ 

At the end of the court room, rose the voice 
of the President, monotonous, a little indistinct, 
but eagerly listened to. ‘‘Because Madame 
d’Estangelles introduced, on the 17th of January, 
an action for a divorce, and her husband also 
has requested a like action, and because their 
life together had become intolerable, making a 

most demoralising spectacle for their children ” 

“Yes, we shall be happy” ; murmured the young 
man, astonished at the delights opening to him 
in this new garden of love. “Because you are 
noble, and I shall be absolutely devoted to you, 
and because our tastes are alike, and that outside 
of the life of our sentiments we shall have hundreds 
of subjects of common interest. ” 

The shadows deepened through the court room, 
over its green walls, over its wood roof, and over 
its oak ceiling where the stars of gold only tended 
to make the night seem to come more prema- 
turely. The few green lamps near the judges’ 
bench, with their long copper fixtures, threw a 
strong light on their faces, and the President 
leaning forward read on, hurriedly, monotonously : 

“Because discord came into the home of 
Madame d’Estangelles, on the day when her 
picture exhibited in the Salon of women-painters 
received great admiration, with the result that 
her husband, an amateur painter without success, 
became exceedingly jealous of her, according to 


40 


Love vs. Law 


witnesses. Because this rivalry increased, and 
the bitterness of her husband made life with him 
insupportable ’ ’ 

“When you come here,” said Andre Velines, 
leaning toward his fiancee with the passionate 
tenderness which a strong man feels for a delicate 
woman, “you will never again be alone. You 
will have a faithful companion, so devoted that 
the world will no longer think of you as an exotic, 
out of place in this masculine world, but as a 
woman to whom a man has given himself body 
and soul. I will protect you, Henriette. You 
can lean on me, and I will help you with all your 
difficult cases. I wish that this work which you 
have chosen should be only a pleasure to you. 
I will be your adviser, your friend, your guide. 
You can always depend on my strong arm.” 

“Because Madame d’Estangelles, when urged 
by her husband to give up her art,” the Presi- 
dent read on, “ continud to exhibit each year a 
painting, the husband, angered by this refusal 
and by the reception the public gave to the can- 
vases of his wife, had the wickedness, one day, 
in his wife’s absence, to destroy some of her paint- 
ings under the pretext of retouching them ” 

“Because the jealousy of her husband had 

destroyed all other sentiment, his wife ” 

How new all that you say to me is ! ” murmured 
pretty Henriette, in an ecstasy of happiness. 

“When you argue a case, there will be a 
support always near you, Henriette,” replied 


Lovers in Lawyers' Gowns 41 

Velines, ‘^one who will love the sight of your face 
and the sound of your voice, and who, because of 
his love, will suggest to you new thoughts if yours 
should ever fail. Ah, all my success shall be 
dedicated to you. I swear to you that I shall 
not cherish an ambition that will not have for its 
chief object the desire to satisfy you. Already, 
when I argue, I want you near me on the bench 
of the law-students, to listen. What will it be 
when our two lives shall be one, and my name 
shall be yours!” 

Henriette, thinking aloud: *‘It is true. I shall 
lose my name. ” 

The President, speaking more loudly, con- 
tinued: “Now to examine the case of the hus- 
band. Because we can see, from the testimony 
of many witnesses, that Madame d’Estangelles de- 
lighted to dwell on the favourable notices which 
she received from the press, and instead of making 
light, as a good wife should, of the inequality of 
their success, she even reproached him before 
witnesses for his failure ” 

Henriette suggested: “Do you not know it 
is a great proof of love, on the part of a young 
woman, when she gives up her name, which stood 
for her worth, and in some measure disappears 
in the personality of her husband?” 

Andre Velines smiled. He looked at her, half 
patronisingly. He found this feminine vanity 
a trifle diverting. He saw in it a taint of the 
new feminism. Yet he loved her delicate in- 


42 


Love vs. Law 


telligence, her sound knowledge of law, her sim- 
plicity, and her many noble emotions. 

“To tell you the truth,” said Henriette, slowly, 
“as yet, I have only for you a very strong sym- 
pathy — oh, very strong, so strong that it leads 
me to think I shall love you some day. Velines, 
it is the willingness that I can see in myself 
to lose my own name which makes me believe 
that I shall sometime love you. Yes, I believe 
I can even understand that it would be almost 
a joy. I shall no longer be Mademoiselle Mar- 
cadieu, the young girl who is beginning to have a 
place among the women-lawyers ; my poor little 
efforts in the direction of obtaining celebrity 
will be over. Oh, well! So much the better. 
This sacrifice shall be my httle part of the common 
property.” 

She smiled. She had the daring freedom of 
expression which we find in women-students. 
She had also the religion of renunciation, and the 
gestures, the tenderness, the delicate tactful man- 
ners which belonged to her high birth and educa- 
tion. All these elements tended to make Henriette 
a wonderfully charming being, whom this youth, 
educated more sternly, like the ancient Romans, 
could only look at with profound admiration. 

“How you will be loved!” he exclaimed, with 
conviction. 

“Be quiet,” she said, mischievously. “Listen 
to the sentence. Let us not forget what we are 
here for.” 


Lovers in Lawyers’ Gowns 


43 


Then, in the centre of the great hall of justice, 
at the very moment when these young people 
pledged themselves to each other, these young 
people, so sure of themselves, as they gazed 
out over the sea of matrimony, an old man at 
the end of the bench read aloud somewhat dram- 
atically the usual formula for a divorce. In 
the ancient language of the court, with a low 
impersonal voice he read, so low that Henriette 
and Andre had to go a little nearer to hear: 
'‘The Court, having listened to the arguments 
of the lawyers, has reached its conclusion, and 
pronounces that on account of mutual offences 
and incompatibility the marriage of Monsieur 
and Madame d’Estangelles is terminated for 
ever, with all its consequences and effects by 
law.” 

Suddenly Henriette thought of these two 
people, who had once been closely knit to- 
gether in love, who had tenderly caressed one 
another, and met heart to heart, and now were 
to become strangers. A strong tie was broken 
for ever. She felt almost as if a chill wind had 
struck the court room. The President finished: 
“And regarding the care of the children, born 
of this marriage ” — There were three little girls 
and one little boy, who were to be distributed 
according to their best interests. With the sever- 
ity of a magistrate he named the children as “The 
Minor aged lo,” “The Minor aged 12,” etc., 
regulating the interviews of the father and the 


44 


Love vs. Law- 


mother, and thus reviving the ghastly spectre 
of the dead family life. 

Henriette listened, impersonally. The little 
law-student had heard too many of these tragic 
sentences to be moved by them here or in the 
small court room below, where the divorces of 
the poorer classes were given out. So many 
matrimonial trials, so much deception, such mu- 
tual hatred, all these matrimonial miseries she 
had heard discussed for years. In regard to di- 
vorce suits she was hlasee. They had ceased to 
interest or excite her. But, this evening, as a 
reaction against the melancholy that was left 
in the atmosphere by the sad story of the Estangel- 
les family, she was led to think of the beauty of 
life, of the delight it would be to give herself to a 
noble, faithful man, and of the joy of being loved. 
So she said earnestly, lifting her pretty laughing 
eyes to Andre, “To-morrow, my good comrade!’^ 
Then, with a rapid and yet business-like gesture, 
she adjusted her toque annoimcing, “Now I 
must go to the judge for my instructions.” 


CHAPTER II 


A TWENTIETH-CENTURY EVE 

H ENRIETTE MARCADIEU had been a 
lively, charming, much-petted little girl. At 
thirteen, she was full of activity and enthusiasm. 
She was indignant at being only a woman, and dis- 
guised herself in boy’s clothing ; she even composed 
political articles, and concealed herself near the 
parlour door to hear her father talk on sociology. 
Only the most extreme opinions satisfied the 
youthful radicalism of her ardent young mind. 

At fourteen, she was seized with a love of art. 
At this time, she left the province where her 
father, the Chief Justice of the court, had long 
lived, and came to Paris. The Louvre en- 
tranced her. Beauty had on her the effect of 
wine. Not knowing how to draw, she created, 
in her dreams at night, exquisite shadowy figures, 
inspired by Greek art. With that extravagance 
of feeling so often seen in extreme youth she 
longed to array herself in the classic toga. 

Not long after, music became her passion ; then 
followed poetry. Ignorant of harmony, she yet 
improvised, on the piano, melodies that made her 
45 


46 


Love vs. Law 


weep because she was unable to transcribe them. 
There were whole evenings when she devoted her- 
self to reading poetry; and, towards morning, 
scarcely awake, she began composing sonnets, — 
a few of which certainly had some merit. 

When she was sixteen, she had tastes in all di- 
rections. She only needed some outside stimulus 
to make her devote her whole life to poetry, 
music, painting, or literatirre. This outside stimu- 
lus not coming, she made but little progress in 
her regular studies, and wasted her school years 
in idle dreaming. Her imagination was wide 
awake, but her intellect was dormant. 

Suddenly, Mademoiselle Angely, became a power 
in her life, and then came a surprising intellectual 
development. Mademoiselle Angely was called 
^‘The Mother of Lawyers”; the source of her 
power over others was not known, and was often 
discussed by her friends. She was uncomfortably 
stout always suffering from indigestion; in con- 
versation she was not brilliant, and apparently 
she was simple; but there was not a woman 
in Paris who exerted more influence over 
young people. At the time when she had charge 
of the work for the ^‘Little Disinherited” and 
for the protection of young criminals, she also 
taught law in several young girls’ schools in 
Paris. She was equal to both these widely 
diverse tasks. She could arouse the minds of 
the ignorant young schoolgirls, and arouse the 
consciences of the wretched little sinners imder 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 47 

her special protection. Every human being who 
was brought under her influence received the 
impression of her personality. 

Notwithstanding all the annoyance caused 
her by these hardened young delinquents a 
magnificent courage made her throw herself 
into this work, in spite of its stony soil; and her 
wretched state of health did not prevent her from 
following attentively all the cases in the tribunal 
on those days when the minors were judged. 
Two or three times each week, she visited her 
little colony, at Ablon, her clinic, she called it, 
where they took care of the little criminals; and 
she willingly gave her time in the morning, to 
teaching them. No second offence disheartened 
her. She interested magistrates, instructed the 
judges, and educated her girl pupils to the work; 
for her dream was to have all this group of women- 
lawyers, whom she was training in the colleges, 
pursue their studies in the law school, and event- 
ually devote their lives to the defence of juvenile 
criminals. Their studies in the law school she 
always supplemented by private lessons in her 
own tiny apartment in la Rue Chanoinesse. To 
her mind, women were needed in the court room, 
to protect the children. She wished, not eight 
or ten girl law-students but fifty, or one hundred, 
all ready to plead for her dear little culprits. 
Her large imagination even conceived of women- 
lawyers capable of being like mothers to their 
young clients. 


48 


Love vs. Law 


When Mademoiselle Angely met Henriette 
Marcadieu in her class in the Lycee, she marked 
her at once with an almost prophetic instinct 
as a disciple. She concentrated the scattered 
energies of the young girl, pictured for her the 
Bar as her goal, her enthusiastic spirit painting 
all in glowing colours, and thus drew her on, from 
one step to another, until she had entered the 
legal profession. Before this no one would have 
believed that Henriette could study so conscien- 
tiously. Her idealistic mind, having once been 
given an exalted ambition, could assimilate, 
quickly the dryest facts. She was only eighteen 
years old, yet she absorbed eagerly the code of 
civil law, and sighed to be allowed to become a 
pupil in the law school. 

“Why do you work so hard?’' asked her 
mother, on the day when she took her first degree. 
“To-day you have graduated, and this has been 
only the last caprice of a rich and spoiled child. 
You must not ruin your health by useless and 
exhausting studies, like poor girls who are forced 
to earn their daily bread.” 

Henriette, with a trembling voice and eager 
eyes and an undaunted spirit replied earnestly, 
“I am forced to earn my living like those others. 
I have not the right to live if I do not take my 
part in the activity of the world. I ought to 
work for the common need and I wish to use my 
time profitably.” 

This conversation took place in the great re- 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 49 


ception room of the Marcadieu family. It re- 
called scenes of the olden times when girls were 
striving to gain from reluctant parents their 
consent to devote themselves to the cloistered 
life. Three high windows looking on the Rue 
de Crenelle, were hung with red damask curtains. 
The tapestry which covered the Louis XIII arm- 
chairs harmonised with the ancient Spanish 
colouring of the walls, and the pale faces of prin- 
cesses embroidered in faded woollens looked down 
at them. But paler than the faces embroidered 
on the canvas was the face of the pretty young 
girl-graduate, who, seated upon a chair which 
bore the heraldic shield of an Abbess, asserted her 
dreams of a new womanhood. 

She was determined not to be an idler, one of 
the many useless maidens of her class, who lived 
a parasitic existence. She wished to begin as a 
law-student and later to practise law. At first 
the study of law interested her because she found 
in it a field for the keenest exercise of her intellect. 
She admired the marvellous insight which seeks 
equity in subtle questions. She was also attracted 
by the wonderful intellectual independence of 
the lawyer, who depends only upon himself, 
asserts himself before the highest tribunals, and — 
according to one writer — knows neither master 
nor slave. 

It was only necessary to hear Henriette sing 
the praises of her profession to realise how firmly 
her mind was fixed upon a legal career. Madame 


4 


50 


Love vs. Law 


Marcadieu, conventional in all her ideas concerning 
the education of her daughter, at first could only 
smile. There was such a strange contrast be- 
tween the delicate, charming physique of Henriette 
and her advanced theories. 

But when her mother realised the violence of 
the convictions, hidden behind her yoimg daugh- 
ter’s charming face, she exclaimed hastily and 
anxiously, ^‘What shall I say when it is known 
that the daughter of President Marcadieu goes to 
the law school with men-students?” 

Madame Marcadieu was still a beautiful blonde, 
strictly conventional, and deeply concerned with 
what she called “our world.” Her weekly re- 
ceptions were always attended by a large number 
of interesting people. She was a well-educated 
woman, who read all the new books, and was 
discriminating in her literary criticism. She had 
been the irreproachable companion of a success- 
ful lawyer, and had afforded much assistance to 
her husband by entertaining his clients and tak- 
ing a prominent position in the society life of 
Paris. 

But between the President of the Bar, a calm, 
philosophic thinker, and his statue-like wife, 
who received his friends so brilliantly, there had 
never been any other intimacy than that born 
of the impersonal discussion of common interests. 

Great growth and attainments are often seen 
in a woman who shares intimately her husband’s 
intellectual life, while society only develops the 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 


51 


more superficial qualities. Monsieur Marcadieu 
had not had time or inclination to bring out the 
best in his wife; so that the mother of Henriette, 
though intelligent and good, was always absorbed 
in her petty round of social duties and had never 
aspired to be more than the admired wife of a 
distinguished man. She had been pleased to have 
Henriette graduate at college. Much was being 
said about the higher education of woman, and 
much admiration had been expressed for the 
distinguished mother who was willing to give her 
child so many intellectual advantages. 

But when Madame Marcadieu saw her young 
daughter ready to emancipate herself from all 
the customs and conventions in which she had 
been brought up, it seemed to her that this was 
a step too advanced and that it would expose 
her to criticism. “You wish to practise at the 
Bar — to work? Why not as well be a teacher and 
give lessons?’' 

Henriette replied, as if thinking aloud, “How 
strange that even to-day an aristocracy of use- 
fulness has not established its superiority to an 
aristocracy of uselessness!” 

“Work is for a man,” replied her mother. 
“A woman ” 

“But, mamma, work does honour to a woman 
quite as much as it does to a man,” Henriette 
replied indignantly. 

Madame Marcadieu suspected that there were 
other arguments which would affect her daughter 


52 


Love vs. Law 


more than those which she was urging; but at 
the moment she could not think of them. ^‘We 
will call your father," she said. 

The President was at work in his study, not 
far away, and he asked what was the matter. 
This reserved, dignified man adored Henriette. 
He was large, with grey hair, a sad mouth, and 
hands that seemed almost eloquent in their 
expressive gestures. His wife, who knew and 
respected his judgment, was right in thinking 
that he would discuss the question with his daugh- 
ter on broader grounds. 

“Dear little one," he said, putting his arm 
around his daughter, “the word ‘woman-lawyer* 
frightens us a little. Your name of Henriette, 
since Moliere’s time, has signified feminine grace 
and charm without a touch of pedantry. It is 
only natural that we distrust a life which is so 
unusual for a woman. Those who choose it 
should be exceedingly careful not to become 
conceited and disagreeable. What a trial it 
would be to us if our tender, joyous, and lovable 
Henriette, whom we all adore, should become one 
of the strong-minded, modem women who are 
hated by most women and all men! 

“ I know how serious you are in your work, and 
that you have not taken up lightly a profession 
which hitherto has been occupied by men only. 
You desire to give yourself wholly to the study of 
law, and it is this which upsets all our theories; 
for we have educated you as all young French 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 


53 


girls are educated, first for marriage. Now, it 
seems, you wish to adopt a wholly new kind of 
life, a life which will take you away from home. 
What then is to become of our hereditary idea 
of the continuation of the family?” 

Henriette bowed her head and responded, 
with the bewitching conceit of nineteen, “The 
continuation of the family is no concern of mine. 
I am not obliged to marry. I shall devote myself 
to the weaker members of society.” 

Music no longer interested her; she no longer 
read the poets, or dreamed of creating wonderful 
works of art. Only one melody sang in her soul, 
echoing the many trivial little songs of earlier 
days. Her parents discussed the matter at length 
but came to no conclusion. They were not 
accustomed to exchange ideas, and had wholly 
different points of view. 

Madame Marcadieu thought only of what her 
friends would say, while her husband thought 
of the future, and of the effects of their decision 
on the personality and moral character of Henri- 
ette. The President respected the wishes of the 
young girl, and did not believe that he had the 
right to keep her from living her own life. Never- 
theless, he was anxious over her new plan, and 
thought of a thousand objections to the career 
upon which she proposed to enter: its entire 
contrast to all his preconceived ideas concerning 
a girl’s education; the freedom of the life in the 
Palais de Justice where men and women mingled 


54 


Love vs. Law 


together with no restraint; and, above all, the 
most alarming consideration, the alteration which 
would surely come in the girl’s character when she 
acquired a feeling of superiority, and lost her 
girlish simplicity and her charming womanliness. 

The question which he asked himself over and 
over again and failed to answer was this: Can 
a woman practise a profession like a man, without 
losing her womanliness? And, dreaming as he 
did of marriage as the happiest career attainable 
for this pretty young law-student, he trembled. 

With these pronounced ideas would she ever 
find a husband? Or even if she found one, could 
she make him happy? Then he thought of his 
own home which was so peaceful, where he was 
neither ecstatically happy nor tragically miserable. 
He loved seriously, deeply, even after twenty years 
of marriage, his reserved wife in whom he could 
not see a fault. They had made a long journey 
together, twenty years of life in common, and 
when he looked back he could not see any situa- 
tion where his wife had failed him. She had al- 
ways been ready to support her husband in every 
public function, and had been as absolutely 
correct in her morals as in her dress. Neverthe- 
less, as he grew older, he missed something out 
of his life, he felt a secret longing which nothing 
could assuage. Not that he had been faultless 
in his own marital relations. Would this have 
occurred if Madame Marcadieu, besides her ex- 
cellent character, had shared with him all his 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 55 


active intellectual interests and had a better 
furnished mind? Then he thought what an 
intelligent wife Henriette would make for a man 
who would love her mind as well as her body. 

He, however, was the first to yield. Henriette 
should be allowed to go out into the world alone 
and practise law. Benevolent Angely still had 
a powerful influence over the young girl. She 
had aroused in her a great enthusiasm for hu- 
manity. Regularity in her daily intellectual 
work, as well as an unusual amount of good sense, 
in time made the young girl less fanatical, 
and developed her into a broad-minded woman. 
The wish to resemble men was gone. By choice 
she desired to busy herself when at home with 
a needle. She found pleasure in dressing herself 
daintily, and even designed for herself blouses out 
of pretty pieces of lace or silk, blouses which made 
her even more coquettish and charming than 
ever, and led the young law-students of the 
opposite sex to look at her with admiration and 
to say, “What a fascinating little woman 

Four or five times a week she walked up the 
Rue Soufflot, which led to the Palais de Justice. 
The round white dome of the Pantheon towered 
grandly above its colonnade, and made Henriette 
think of her love for Grecian art. After reciting 
all day it rested her tired eyes to see the lofty 
dome against the clear blue sky; many fellow- 
students greeted her on her way ; the streets grew 
broader, and were crowded with people; auto- 


56 


Love vs. Law 


mobiles whirled by; there were bicycles, and little 
carts made to resemble bicycles; and then Hen- 
riette’s grey dress, with its well-fitting blouse and 
graceful sleeves, disappeared under the porch of 
the law school. 

Later she might be found walking through the 
empty halls, or up the gloomy stairs, starting 
a little when some step resounded through the 
building. She was one of the most earnest of 
the students, and it was to her that the learned 
professor, in gown and toque, addressed his most 
eloquent words. She was ambitious and took 
full notes on all the lectmes, and yet her mind 
was active and she enjoyed all the evasions and 
delicate quibbles of the legal code, which she was 
trying to grasp. Her comrades often gazed at 
her, finding her far more interesting than the 
three or four chubby-faced women in ugly hats, 
and with great red hands, who bent their large 
backs over their soiled note-books. 

At last, as the noise of the retreating class was 
heard, Henriette picked up her papers quickly 
and went out with the others. Evening drew 
near, the lights twinkled, the wind was chilly, 
and her work had increased her excellent young 
appetite. Sometimes, for the sake of the novelty, 
without waiting for her dinner, this girl, brought 
up in luxury, went into a little corner bakery, 
and bought a hot roll for a penny, thus feeling 
that she was leading the true life of the student. 

After dinner, by lamp-light, she remained in- 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 


57 


doors and sewed in the great room, decorated 
with Spanish paintings. She said that this was 
her castle of dreams and that her fancy was at 
the end of her thread. In truth, her studies in 
Civil Law and Jurisprudence scarcely gave her 
any leisure all day. It was during these silent 
hours of the evening that she really thought of 
her future. Many of her friends were married; 
often the fear of living without ever being loved 
haunted her. Her father and mother read books 
suited to their individual tastes. The house was 
very quiet, and it was then that Henriette wished 
for a husband who would understand her and be 
her dearest friend. It seemed to her that she 
could make him very happy, happier than her 
father was. Why did she repulse the idea of 
matrimony? When she became a full-fledged 
lawyer would she spend more time in the court 
house than her mother did in society? At the 
thought that she might have little children, she 
trembled with a mysterious joy. 

However, each step which she had taken had 
been successful. She easily obtained a license to 
permit her to practise law. In the court house 
where she went with Mademoiselle Angely she 
knew Madame Martinal, who was then also a stu- 
dent. The young widow, while nursing her young- 
est child, pleaded two or three times each week in 
the Criminal Court. There was no one who made 
more impression upon Henriette than this coura- 
geous young widow, who, in order to learn to 


58 


Love vs. Law 


speak in public, had to conquer great natural 
timidity, to overcome the weariness which the 
nursing mother feels, and whose haste in leaving 
the court house showed her maternal devotion. 
She convinced Henriette, more than ever, that 
every woman should have a profession, and in 
case of need be able to support herself. 

At last the moment came for Henriette to be 
admitted to the Bar. Her parents grew more and 
more apprehensive as the final ordeal approached, 
and made a last effort to turn their daughter from 
her profession. 

“My poor child,” said Monsieur Marcadieu, 
“you know how much men dislike learned women. 
Perhaps you are making a solemn renunciation 
of marriage, with yotu* oath of office.” 

“What does it matter?” replied the young 
girl. “I shall never desire a husband who would 
not wish a wife to retain the best of herself — her 
intelligence. Whoever would love a woman- 
lawyer would love her for herself ; and, for a woman 
like me, that is the only kind of love which would 
bring me happiness.” 

“Dear little one, you are making a mistake. 
A woman can be intellectual without being a 
lawyer, and could bring to her husband all the 
joys of intellectual companionship without prac- 
tising a profession. We have given you a man’s 
education, yet I do not wish to be suspected of 
despising a woman’s work. No, be learned and 
know how to reason; but you will have, in your 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 59 


own home, with your tastes, enough to occupy 
your time.” 

Then Henriette gave an example — Madame 
Martinal. What would have become of this 
young widow if she had not been able to earn a 
living by her practice of law? Even a rich girl 
cannot be sure of her fortune. Many a husband 
carelessly loses his wife’s money. In these unfore- 
seen calamities is it not pathetic to see a helpless 
woman, without resources, deprived of her inde- 
pendence and of her personal life, obliged to live 
with a poor relative or take a position as com- 
panion, when she does not become the chattel 
of some wretched man? It is easy to see that 
a woman always runs a risk of an unhappy 
marriage; and, in such a case, if the miscon- 
duct of her husband obliges her to leave him, 
what a shame it is for her to be obliged to 
take the alimony, which her unworthy husband 
is obliged by law to give her! Who would not 
respect a woman more, if she were able to scorn 
the money of the man who had abandoned her? 

After this. President Marcadieu could not make 
any further objections. 

Henriette took the oath, at the first sitting of the 
court. It was a warm, soft morning in November 
when the sun with its beams shone on the light 
oak wainscoting. The gilding on the walls was 
brilliant. An immense crowd filled the benches. 
All the Bar were there to see the pretty blond girl 
admitted. She was not without emotion when 


6o 


Love vs. Law 


she first put on her new cap and gown. In the 
early morning, a hair-dresser had come to her 
home in Rue de Grenelle to arrange her hair, and 
the charming young creature looked like a little 
Roman Themis, serious and dignified. 

The folds of her heavy robe made her steps 
slow. She was at first lost among the dozen 
others who took their oaths. The distinguished 
President, a little, dry, feeble, old man with a 
wax-like face, uttered the ordinary words behind 
the tribunal. Mademoiselle Angely, the beautiful 
Isabelle G6ronce, Madame Clementin, and the 
timid Martinal, all in street dress, concealed 
themselves in this assembled company. 

The ceremony took place in the Hall of Justice. 
After the confused sounds, which were the avowals 
of the young lawyers, a gentle voice was heard, 
a delicate white hand was raised, and Hen- 
riette Marcadieu was pronounced a member of 
the Bar. She was allowed a study for work 
in her own home and her new life began. She 
rose early, and studied for two hours each morning 
on Jurisprudence, on which she wished chiefly to 
depend in her arguments. At eleven o’clock 
a hasty breakfast, and then she and her father 
together walked toward the court house. Mon- 
sieur Marcadieu, thin and wiry, quickly crossed 
the old streets on the left side of the Seine. Hen- 
riette was at his side, keeping step with him. 
Above the crowded population of both banks of 
the Seine rose Sainte-Chapelle, with its delicate 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 


6i 


gold spire guiding them on their way. They 
entered the great white portico, ornamented 
with two grey, stone lions, known as the Place 
Dauphine ; at the stairway which led to the Palais, 
they separated. The President went to his 
study for consultation, Henriette went to put 
on her toque and gown. 

She then listened to the cases argued by older 
lawyers, and heard Fabrezan-Castagnac at the 
Civil Court, Temisien on jury trials, Blondel in 
the Divorce Court, and Lamblin in the Criminal 
Court. At four o’clock she returned home, and 
a famous actress gave her lessons in elocution. 
She learned to speak oratorically, to sotmd the 
vowels, to modulate her voice, and to prepare 
her gestures. She also learned, by reading famous 
trials, to take advantage of certain stratagems, 
to distrust her client’s opinion, to distrust the 
judge’s opinion, and even to distrust herself. 

In the evening Henriette accompanied her 
mother into the social world. She was an 
object of much curiosity wherever she went. 
She tried to keep secret the day when she first 
argued a case, but more than fifty well-known 
society women were present. Her argument was 
not brilliant; Mademoiselle Angely, who was 
on a Judiciary Committee, had obtained for her, 
by the aid of a judge interested in her work for 
juvenile criminals, the defence of a little nurse 
girl. The child, placed in a fruit-seller’s family, 
had sewed into the hem of her dress fifty francs 


62 


Love vs. Law 


which she had filched from the office. Henriette 
brought to her argument the humanitarian passion 
with which the generous Mademoiselle Angely 
had inspired her. But when she was before the 
Bar, in spite of the actress’s instructions, she 
forgot to sound the silent vowels, her voice was 
high-keyed, and her gestures stiff ; she even forgot 
a part of the preparation, and stammered. The 
President of the Eighth Chamber mortified her 
by stopping her speech before it was finished. 
However, Madame Marcadieu, seated on the 
bench of witnesses between a police agent and a 
dirty woman with hairs all over her skirt, spoke 
of her daughter’s “persuasive eloquence.” This 
phrase was often quoted in the President’s room. 

Although Henriette drew the attention of men, 
and even had their sympathy, no one had yet 
wished to marry her. A woman who wished to 
marry her to a young doctor was disappointed 
in her plans. Henriette was twenty- three years 
old, and she began to feel the effects of that 
half-contemptuous attitude with which many 
people regard a learned woman. At times her 
heart was heavy; she wished to be loved; her 
ardent desire for affection had to satisfy itself 
with her little clients, boys from La Roquette, 
and little girls from Saint-Lazare. On the 
benches of the Criminal Court Room, in the few 
moments which preceded the judge’s instruc- 
tions, she was a real missionary, often drawing 
tears from the eyes of the juvenile offenders; 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 


63 


and the honest-faced citizens who had been robbed 
by these young offenders were all lovers of this 
pretty missionary lawyer. 

Her enthusiasm, as she grew accustomed to 
arguing cases, gave her more confidence. Her 
earnestness and her admirable manner of arguing 
soon showed that she had outstripped most of 
the young women lawyers. One day she had a 
success. A small boy whom she defended was 
acquitted. Some one waited for her, as she 
came out with the others, and felicitated her, 
pressing her hand. It was Andre Velines. The 
reserved manner of the young man showed that 
he was shy and proud. Henriette was more 
touched by his felicitations than by any other 
that she received. Since then she had often 
found this young man near her. Was it only 
by chance? 

He was always modest and discreet. Some- 
times, when she went to listen to Fabrezan argu- 
ing some subtle question of inheritance, and sat 
on a bench at the left of the room, she saw one 
of the other lawyers coming to join her; and, in 
the dim light, she was able to recognise his face; 
she knew by intuition that it was Velines. He 
was a great admirer of the old master, and tried 
to show the young girl various important legal 
points in the argument which she might overlook. 
He treated Henriette almost like a pupil whom 
he was initiating into the science of law. Yet 
she was not angry, and did not find him pedantic, 


64 


Love vs. Law 


only she occasionally wondered if he did not take 
an interest in her personally, rather than in her 
legal studies. But she was not in a hurry to 
think this, because she had given over all idea 
of ever having a lover. 

Finally, an intimacy, of a dignified and reserved 
kind, was established between them. He spoke 
rarely to her, often did not seem to see her, and 
did not easily break through his reserve. Un- 
consciously she began to feel tenderly toward 
him, and, without acknowledging it even to 
herself, longed for his love. Every Saturday 
morning she went to a conference; she registered 
herself, four times, to take part in the debates; 
the fourth time, as if by chance, Andre Velines 
was there in the library room ; she feared that he 
would judge her unfavourably, especially when 
she grappled with the subject of discussion, “Is 
it right for a doctor to claim his fee in advance?” 

Velines said, at the end of the conference, 
“You have astonished me. You are no longer 
as illogical as you were; you do not juggle with 
words, and end your argument by imploring the 
sympathy of the Court for your client. You 
know how to develop with much skill your own 
thought. You did very well.” 

After that, with a natural vanity, Henriette 
exaggerated the esteem in which he held her 
talent. One afternoon, in a side corridor, during 
a recess, as they sat in a window-seat together, 
he told her the story of his life. His parents 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 65 

had died when he was a little boy. His grand- 
mother, living in Rouen, had educated him. He 
felt great gratitude to this old lady for the strenu- 
ous way in which she had trained him. He had 
learned from her, early, that in college and in 
life, men who did not wish to fall into the lowest 
seat must aim at the highest. His admir- 
able grandmother had lived only for the future 
of her grandson. She dreamed great things 
for him, interested him in politics, and was 
not content that he should be merely a petty 
lawyer. 

^‘But you are not a petty lawyer,** cried 
Henriette. He smiled, and seemed content with 
this retort. Indeed he had been successful. 
Often he worked ten hours a day on his arguments, 
cross-examined his clients frequently, studying 
them, drawing them out, and striving in every 
possible way to obtain from them all the facts 
which could throw light on their cases. These 
clients, although somewhat wearied by his insist- 
ence, were flattered by his attentions, and had 
great respect for him. He was called intensely 
conscientious. His style of speaking was excel- 
lent, although a little heavy, and he never said 
anything which was not sound. Yet, when he 
reached the court house, and saw a large audience 
descending from the upper chamber, after an 
argument by Temisien — and when he heard 
the name of Temisien fly from mouth to mouth, 
and saw the warm admiration of beautiful women 


66 


Love vs. Law 


for this man, a contraction stopped the blood 
in his arteries. 

Ternisien, it is true, was fifty years old; but 
Velines wished to attain success in his youth. 
So he would busy himself more deeply in his 
cases, certain that of all the roads which lead to 
Glory, work is not only the most noble but the 
most certain. 

Then, on the day of the divorce of the Es- 
tangelles, in the first room of the court, Andre 
Velines avowed his love for Henriette. And she 
was prepared for this avowal. Without realising 
it or acknowledging to herself such weakness, 
she had become attached to this dignified man, 
so sincerely interested in her. 

The families of both the young people were 
acquiescent, and the news was soon all over the 
court house that Mademoiselle Marcadieu would 
marry Andre Velines. 

It was a beautiful prelude to the marriage 
of these two noble young people, worthy of their 
great happiness, that they could say that their 
intellects had been in love before their hearts. 
This reserved young man, with his face set 
absolutely toward his future success, loved for 
the first time. Two years before, when he had 
noticed, in the court house, this fascinating 
girl, the idea of allying his fortunes with the 
family of the Chief Magistrate had suggested 
the thought of marrying Mademoiselle Marcadieu. 
But, to-day, he was so deeply in love that had 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 67 

Henriette been poor, and without high family 
connections, he would have married her with en- 
thusiasm. And, many an evening, in the great 
room hung with Spanish tapestry, there were 
mysterious interviews, exchanges of promises, 
and fervent desires for future happiness. 

A week before her marriage, Henriette, who 
even during this exciting part of her life had not 
given up her professional work, was correcting 
the outline of an argument which she was to 
deliver the next day. Her study, where she 
received her clients, was not luxurious but com- 
fortable, and was furnished with card catalogues, 
where she methodically classified her cases. She 
was a calm little person, who did not easily lose 
her head, in professional matters, and she had 
a fair amount of business. The work with the 
juvenile criminals furnished her more clients 
than she could defend. An old friend of her 
father, who was pleased with her youthful en- 
thusiasm, had given her a case to be tried in the 
Civil Court, which concerned the title to some 
of his property. Often unmarried mothers came 
to consult her, in the hope that they could have 
their children legally recognised. Her sympa- 
thetic manners pleased everybody. Young and 
pure, herself, she received the confessions of 
women who had grown old in vice. Again she 
would work laboriously for weeks over a case 
which concerned a hat, a coat, or a corset. 

On this evening, a bitter cold night, toward the 


68 


Love vs. Law 


end of January, as her maid came to light the 
lamp, they heard voices in the vestibule. Hen- 
riette believed that she recognised the voice 
of a friend. However, every one knew that 
during her consultation hours she was not at 
home even to her most intimate friends. Who 
was this importunate person.? 

As she listened, the door opened, and a tall 
young woman, dressed in black, entered. She 
threw her arms around Henriette, then, without 
saying anything, took the arm-chair near the 
desk. 

Astonished, Henriette remained standing, and 
looked anxious. “What is the matter, my poor 
Suzanne? ” But Suzanne Marty, the divorced wife 
of Alembert, the civil engineer, did not reply; 
and Henriette, who long had known the trials 
of this unhappy young woman, at once grasped 
the situation. She asked anxiously, however, 
“What has happened? What have you heard?’* 

The woman, dressed in black, with her veil 
lowered, still remained silent. The lamp burned 
dimly. A long fur coat closely fitted her figure, 
showing her slender hips. Her gloved hands 
rested on her knees, and her large beautiful eyes 
had an expression of bitter misery such as no 
words could adequately express. 

Henriette was full of sympathy for her. She 
took her hands, asking, “ Dear friend, have you 
had some bad news? You have come to see me. 
Can I be of use to you?” 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 69 


Madame Marty bowed her head in assent. 

“ Has Monsieur Alembert written to you?” 

The young woman at last spoke. ‘‘No, not 
he himself but his lawyer.” And an instant 
later, in a dry hard voice she added, “He wishes 
to take his son.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Henriette, who had again 
seated herself at her writing table; and she made 
a gesture of encouragement. “This must have 
come sooner or later, my poor friend.” 

Madame Marty again found her throat con- 
tracted. “You will be married, Henriette, soon; 
you will have children ; you will then understand. 
My darling boy is so wise, so reasonable, yet he 
is only eleven years old ; I have him for my friend, 
my companion, my greatest joy. His affection 
satisfies me; he is not like an ordinary child. 
His heart is twenty years old. He understands 
and feels with me. And now he is to be taken 
away. I shall not have him any more; I shall 
be all alone.” 

She did not cry out, but her knees shook 
under her; even her fingers were clenched 
firmly. 

Henriette trembled with keen sympathy at 
the sight of this great suffering. 

“Wait, Suzanne! You shall have your child 
again if the Court confirms its first opinion.” 

“But if Monsieur Alembert wins his case, my 
boy will be immediately seized, and I shall have 
no right to resist or even to retain him one day. 


70 


Love vs. Law 


I shall have to count the kisses I give him, every 
two weeks, and he will become like a distant 
relative who is only occasionally seen.’' 

She said no more, remaining for several moments 
in tragic silence. There was some pride in her 
sorrow. A certain feminine inflexibility and 
offended dignity surrounded the story of her 
divorce. People said that her husband had not 
been a great sinner, but she had demanded from 
him the same integrity of soul and body which 
she herself gave. Her happiness was founded 
on the theory which puts husband and wife on 
an absolute equality before the moral law, and 
could not endure after Alembert had been un- 
faithful. The Feministe world, in which Suzanne 
Marty lived, had adopted this theory of marriage. 
Masculine sins, which many women and more 
mothers tolerate heroically, they thought a 
dishonour to the marriage tie. 

She returned again to her own case, almost 
thinking aloud. “Think what it must be like, 
Henriette, to have a child of your own, to have 
borne him in suffering, held him so closely in 
your arms that he had almost ceased to be a 
separate being, developed his little mind, nourished 
his soul, even found your own words and your 
own sentiments in his mouth, your unconscious 
gestures repeated by him — and then to see him 
taken away by this man who has poisoned your 
life, to have him disappear forever and belong 
to another.” 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 71 

“My poor friend,” responded Henriette, “my 
poor friend.” 

“Is it not natural,” cried Madame Marty, 
“that I should hate this man? Can you not 
understand why I should hate him?” 

“It does not help matters to hate him,” said 
the gentle Henriette, “but you have been so 
blameless that I believe the right is on your side. 
You must keep your child, and you must be defend- 
ed by some intelligent person who will throw light 
on the situation. Have you chosen your lawyer ? ’ ' 

“Yes,” said Suzanne, firmly. 

“And it is ?” 

“It is you.” 

Henriette felt herself blushing with secret 
pleasure. She repeated half incredulously: “You 
wish me ” 

Then she continued: “You will confide to me 
this important case, a case that so closely concerns 
your happiness, Suzanne? Have I sufficient 
talent for this? Am I old enough? Shall I 
have enough weight with the judge?” 

Madame Marty explained slowly: “This case 
should be argued by a woman. I have been 
unjustly treated by a man; a man has been untrue 
to me and caused me suffering. He still wishes 
to give me pain, and even plans to take away my 
child. Shall I permit another man to defend me? 
No, no. Men all stand together; they have a 
secret understanding; while you, my dear Henri- 
ette, will be for me alone. It is my cry that you 


72 


Love vs. Law 


will make audible before the Bar. Your voice 
will be mine; it will be a woman's, a mother’s, 
on the eve of being separated from her child, 
who will speak not only of her sorrow, but of her 
right to have her own child. ” 

She trembled as she spoke, and her voice was 
choked with sobs; then she continued: mean 

what I say. I have read you, perhaps, better 
than you have read yotrrself. You pleaded 
yesterday in the Eighth Court. I was there. 
You did not see me, for I was among the crowd. 
You did not succeed in having the guilty little 
boy acquitted, but you analysed his conscience 
so tenderly that I saw the judge before whom 
you spoke quite charmed by your argument. 
You are still a young girl, but you have great 
talent for speaking, and a peculiar charm tmlike 
any one else at the Bar. You have original 
ideas, and masculine thoughts, yet you bring 
them out with such simple grace. When you 
go before the Court to plead for me, to ask that 
they leave me my son, you will not be aiming 
at a correct literary style, like so many famous 
lawyers, who only simulate an emotion which 
they are incapable of feeling. But your very 
soul will thrill with emotion, and all your womanly 
instincts will help my case.” 

Henriette did not permit herself to be too 
much gratified by this faith in her legal powers. 
She inquired: “Do you know who is to defend 
your husband, Suzanne?” 


A Twentieth-Century Eve 73 

‘T think that it is Fabrezan, as in the former 
trial.” 

“What, am I, an obscure little woman, to be 
the opponent of this famous man?” 

“You will be superior to Fabrezan in your 
gentle womanliness, in your sincerity, and in 
your sympathy. Yes, Henriette, it is time that 
a woman at the Bar should aid another woman in 
distress.” 

“But, dear friend,” said Henriette hesitating, 
“do you know that I am to be married in eight 
days?” 

“My dear,” replied the bitter Suzanne, “I 
hope very much that marriage will not destroy 
your intellectual ability, and that even when 
married, Henriette Marcadieu will remain Hen- 
riette Marcadieu, with all that your name signi- 
fies to me. You have a strong personality. 
Do not lose it.” 

“I wish, first of all, to be the wife of my 
husband. ” 

“You ought before everything to be yourself. 
Surely, a woman such as you has a right to 
love. Why should an intellectual woman be 
deprived of the joys of family life, and of a hus- 
band? You are right to wish to marry, but only 
on the condition that marriage shall not minimise 
your own personality. I am not an egotist. 
I do not say this, thinking of my own case or of the 
case of another, only I remind you that it is on 
the day after your own marriage that you must 


74 


Love vs. Law 


make your husband recognise your right to prac- 
tise your profession. If you delay, little one, 
you will see the beginning of masculine tyranny; 
you will lose all yotu* independence; you will no 
longer be able to give your time and yourself 
to yoiu: clients and your profession.” 

Henriette was troubled by these words. All 
her devotion and faith in her lover resented this 
advice, yet at the same time her pride secretly 
approved the warnings of this high-spirited woman. 
But she said at last, “Monsieur Velines is a noble 
man. I have not the slightest fear of his tyranny. 
I cannot consider him as an enemy whom I must 
watch. I love him, Suzanne.” 

“Ah!” replied the sad young woman, half 
dreaming, “we all love, and love too much; 
that is the cause of most of our suffering.” 

“I cannot refuse my futme husband his long 
wedding journey to Scotland, which will take 
us several weeks.” 

Madame Marty was silent a moment, then 
she stood up. “Dear friend, I have nothing 
more to say ; the question has become too personal, 
and I am too much interested in you to give any 
more advice. I have given you my case, which 
is as you know, my happiness. See if you can 
take it; reply to me quickly, not from the stand- 
point of our old friendship, but from that of 
your own dignity, of your own personality, 
which perhaps is now receiving its first 
assault.” 


A Twentieth- Century Eve 75 

^‘Suzanne, listen to me!” began Henriette; 
but the young woman hastily kissed her on the 
cheek, and departed, without saying a word 


more. 


CHAPTER III 


THE PRISTINE MALE 


HE room was very light, with its white ceiling, 



1 its oak woodwork, and its blue walls. It 
was nearly deserted on the days when criminals 
were not brought before the judges. To-day, 
however, the clear and beautiful voice of Andre 
Velines was heard echoing through the Sixth 
Court Room. Suddenly some thick hoarse words 
of the President produced a silence. ‘‘The case 
will be continued on the eighth.” 

The large, black sleeves of Andre were seen 
rising as he again addressed the Bar. 

“But, Your Honour, I shall not be in Paris 
that day.” 

“Then the last Thursday in February.” 

“But, Your Honour, I shall not be here then.” 

The old man looked angry. Velines explained 
in a sentence which made all the people present 
look at him with new interest. “I am to be 
married on Monday, Your Honour, I beg for the 
mercy of the Court.” 

There was a general laugh, and then a breaking 
up of the session. The case was held over until 


The Pristine Male 


77 


March. The crowd saw only this distinguished- 
looking lawyer with his energetic manner, who 
was well known in the court house, and who had 
now let a corner of his private life be seen. So 
he was to be married on Monday! Among the 
few women present, the news flew about that he 
was to marry a woman-lawyer. The curiosity 
then increased. When he left the court room 
arm in arm with Maurice Servais, he was noticed 
by every one present. They tried to read his 
thoughts. This serious man was then in love. 
What sort of a lover would he make? What had 
been his romance? There was a general murmur 
which Andre felt was flattering to him. 

“Ah, you have good fortime,” sighed Servais, 
when they were in the new gallery of the Court 
of Appeals. 

“You need not envy me; Mademoiselle Per- 
nette is delightful.” 

“Yes, but when can I marry her?” 

“My poor Servais. Are there still obstacles?” 
asked Andre, sympathetically. In truth these 
obstacles were a mystery to no one. This bril- 
liant young lawyer and his clever flancee did not 
earn one hundred francs a month. But the in- 
dustrious Louise was now working hard at the 
civil code, and still believed that her talents, 
in time, would be recognised. They both had 
magniflcent courage. 

“We shall marry in two years,” he said con- 
fidently. 


78 


Love vs. Law 


Andre Velines, although reserved, was kind 
and deeply interested in this young idyl so like 
his own. He selected Servais to take charge 
of the cases which might come up dturing his 
wedding journey. He was now trying to make 
him understand these cases, and he presented him 
with some papers, and stood for a last time talking 
to him. The young man seemed impatient. 

'‘Are you in a hurry, Servais?” 

"Yes, yes!” whispered the young man; "I 
have a meeting with a friend, at three o’clock, in 
the Galerie de Saint Louis.” 

Velines smiled half humorously: "The friend, — 
we do not need to name her.” 

"I also am in a hurry,” added he; "my fiancee 
and her mother are waiting for me at three o’clock, 
to note the effect of the new furniture in our 
little apartment.” 

Then they separated. Servais ran as if eager 
to escape. Velines called after him: "Write to 
me, H6tel de France, Edinburgh!” 

More calm than Servais because more secure 
of his happiness, Andre went in to the dressing- 
room, to lay aside his cap and gown. As he 
placed the cap — a toque — at the bottom of the 
box marked with his name, he reflected that it 
would remain there many weeks; and when the 
attendant came to fold up his gown, he felt, in 
spite of his joyful anticipations, a slight regret. 
It was in this garb that he had the feeling of 
belonging to the court house. And while the 


The Pristine Male 


79 


attendant assisted him to take off his robe, he 
recalled his first proud reception at the Bar and 
his oath. He had been admitted ten years ago, 
and had then been ambitious to be at the head 
of the Bar. Was he to-day on the road to this 
honour? He certainly made a fair income; but 
that indefinable charm, which lighted up the 
distinguished style of Fabrezan, the delicacy of 
manner which distinguished Blondel, the poetic 
style of Temisien, — that oratorical power which 
made itself felt all over the court when one of 
these masters appeared, he did not possess. He 
did not dominate the Bench or hypnotise the 
judges. He had not the royal gift of leadership. 
And all at once, while his steps resounded in the 
empty Galerie de Lamoignon,he felt, more strongly 
than ever before an ambition for power, an intense 
desire to hear his name echo through these great 
halls. 

Three o’clock rang. This was for all the court 
the end of the session. From the Criminal 
Court, in the left wing, the prisoners walked out 
in front of their judges, who had hastened their 
sentences; at the right, in the Civil Court, were 
the separations, the divorces, and the settling 
of the claims for the minors. There was also the 
Probate Court, for commercial contracts and the 
probation of wills. In the court above, where 
cases were appealed for the second time, debates 
languished and cases were prolonged by the 
contrivances of weary but ingenious attorneys. 


8o 


Love vs. Law 


But in the Criminal Court there was no judicial 
ceremony, and proceedings were deliberately 
made as dramatic and tragic as in ancient times, 
while the crowd of listeners trembled with morbid 
excitement as the end drew near. Everywhere, 
in each of the court rooms, there was the same 
foolish activity on the part of the lawyer, and his 
useless effort to influence the distrustful judges 
who, keeping away from hirh^ sought to find in 
themselves truth and justice. 

“Oh,” cried Velines to himself, trembling with 
excitement, “to be a great power in this court 
house, to be a true torch, to be a light!” 

Suddenly, at the right, the large barred gates 
opened, and the Galerie de Saint Louis was seen; 
with its light frescoes and its mysterious back- 
ground, it was a beautiful nook, set into this 
great solemn monumental building. Half mis- 
chievously Velines looked in and then smiled. 
The old guard had his back discreetly turned, 
and, seated on one of the benches was the beau- 
tiful Louise Pemette, in her legal robes, with 
parted lips, listening to Maurice who spoke in 
low tones. Both had portfolios, full of legal 
papers, on their knees; and both had that air 
of sweet melancholy, so often seen in very young 
lovers. 

Then Velines forgot his thirst for glory, his 
legal profession, the entire court house, and 
thought only of his own approaching happiness. 
He reached a very high religious and moral level 


The Pristine Male 


8i 


in those few days which preceded his marriage, 
a period of instinctive preparation for it. It was 
almost impossible for him to believe that he was 
soon to receive into his home his dear Henriette. 
He could not find anything beautiful enough for 
the rooms where he had so long lived alone. 
As he leaped over one of the little gates of the 
Harlay Gallery, his house appeared, a little slant- 
ing in perspective, at the foot of the Place Dau- 
phine. It was in this quiet part of the city that 
he had chosen to live. To think that in a few 
days he would be there alone with Henriette! 
He felt a glow of happiness, and for the moment 
thought that this happiness would be greater 
than any achieved ambition. Then, nearly at 
the same moment, he saw the carriage of Madame 
Marcadieu, coming across the Pont-Neuf; he 
hastened to receive her and Henriette. 

Madame Marcadieu, under her reserved manner, 
concealed great irritability. She remembered 
now that she had not mentioned, at the jeweller’s, 
the wrong marks on certain old pieces of silver 
which she had had copied from an antique model 
for her daughter. She must go and see if the 
mistake could be remedied. She was also afraid 
that the ornaments on the curtains in the little 
parlour were too high. All these petty details 
were to her of the vastest importance. 

Andre, ” mimmured Henriette, in a low nervous 
tone, “ I wish to talk to you quietly. Let mamma 
busy herself with these trifles.” 


82 


Love vs. Law 


Andre Velines lived on the first floor of a beau- 
tiful hotel, built in the time of Louis XIII. He 
had never received his fiancee there without 
emotion; but to-day this visit was almost solemn. 
He saw in Henriette’s appearance here the prelude 
to her final entrance, and he could not keep him- 
self from saying, as he walked up the stairway, 
^‘Another six days and we shall come here alone. ” 
“I adore this historic corner of Paris,’’ she 
continued. “But you know the legend which 
illustrates it? Where this house stands there 
used to be a bakery. The baker made the most 
delicious cakes in all Paris, and the Parisians 
desired them. Suddenly it was discovered that in 
his cakes he put the flesh of little children. Then 
the baker was burned, and his house pulled down. ” 
“In a hundred years from now,” responded 
Velines, “I wish people to say, ‘In this house 
lived the happiest of women, the most loved, 
the most faithfully served, because she was the 
sweetest, the prettiest, the best.’ ” 

He did not finish. They had arrived at the 
little reception-room. Beyond were heard the 
hammers of the workmen, some rolls of paper 
were on the floor, and ropes and strings caught 
their feet. But this disorder did not spoil the 
charm of the dainty white furniture and the long 
pier-glasses ornamented with crystal where the 
severe taste of Andre had not wished to put a 
touch of colour, to disturb the complete harmony. 

First, opening on the Place Dauphine, there 
6 


The Pristine Male 


83 


was a suite of four rooms, of which two had been 
converted into studios or offices for the two 
lawyers; and the last smaller room, with panels 
of medallions had a painted ceiling hung with 
brilliant crystal pendants. It was so light, with 
its great window, that Henriette had reserved 
it to receive her friends in, saying that she went 
so little into society that she would give up the 
largest room to her clients as a waiting-room. 
The apartment was built around a dark court, 
where could be seen a plot of grass and a lovely 
linden tree. It was a tranquil, silent, poetic 
little garden, in the heart of Paris. 

Andre Velines had placed upon the wall his 
collection of old prints. The three rooms opened 
onto the court. That of the young people had 
one window opening on a little balcony, so small 
that there was hardly space for one arm-chair. 
The dining-room, the waiting-room, and the 
kitchen, were on the fourth side of the quadrangle. 

Since her arrival Madame Marcadieu devoted 
herself exclusively to arranging the large salon. 
The smaller salon was finished. The trimming 
on the curtains was now just the right length. 
Henriette and Andre, oblivious of these trifles, 
and wholly absorbed in their inner life, took 
refuge in this little room by instinct. As soon as 
they were alone, the yoimg man, coming to his 
fiancee, threw his arms around her and exclaimed, 
trembling with passion, “Dear little Henriette! 
My dear Henriette! Dearest Henriette!” 


84 


Love vs. Law 


But she sweetly disengaged herself, and said: 
^‘My dearest, we have very little time. You 
know that I love you and that I love these 
demonstrations of affection, but now we must 
talk seriously. I have some news to tell you. 
My friend, Madame Marty, the divorced wife 
of the engineer Alembert, has been to see me. 
Her husband has made an appeal for a new trial, 
in order that he may obtain control of his son. 
She has received notice of the new trial, and she 
has asked me to defend her.” 

For a moment Andre did not reply. He looked 
at Henriette, his eyes opened widely ; then suddenly 
with a suppressed laugh he declared, “That is 
a great piece of luck.” 

“Yes, indeed,” replied Henriette, “too great 
for me, and I am even a little appalled. I have 
hastened to tell you, Andre, for I know how pleased 
you will be; you who love me so much must be 
overjoyed at the opportunity which may be the 
real beginning of my career.” 

“You have accepted?” Andre inquired, quickly. 

And when Henriette answered, “Yes,” he 
still smiled affectionately; and he laughed, caress- 
ing her hand, “Dear little one, I believe indeed 
that I am happy.” 

“Do you know,” said Henriette, with the 
loving enthusiasm so natural to a young girl 
on the eve of her marriage, “it is for you more 
than myself that I am gratified.” And she kissed 
him on the forehead and on his hair. At this 


The Pristine Male 


85 


moment it seemed to Andre as if even the caprices 
of Henriette were sacred, even the foolish plan 
of arguing such an important case. 

^‘Only,*^ added the young girl, hesitating, “I 
have not explained everything, Andre. This 
trial will take me much time, and may come 
before the court in a few weeks; then our journey 
to Scotland ” 

He did not reply. His eyes wandered over 
the colouring in the little reception-room. This 
journey to Scotland was the only journey for 
pleasure that he had ever allowed himself to make. 
His youth had been very serious. But this won- 
derful joume}^ was to be his wedding journey and 
was also to have the freshness of a first trip into 
a new country. But he was wholly devoted to 
Henriette, devoted to her as few men knew how 
to be devoted. He felt, in seeing her take up 
this case, what he thought was a great responsi- 
bility for her, much as a mother feels, who allows 
her spoiled child to play with some exquisite 
piece of bric-a-brac which she loves yet is willing 
to sacrifice. 

^‘We will remain only eight days in Scotland,” 
reflected he, without quite being able to control 
his regret. only exist for you, and I know 
the interest which you take in your profession — 
and then — a case of this kind is not often found 
up the sleeve of a young woman-lawyer. Who 
is to be your opponent?” 

'‘Fabrezan.” 


86 


Love vs. Law 


This time Andre gave a start. ^‘The Head of 
the Bar,” he exclaimed. Then he looked again 
at Henriette, his dainty little fair-haired beauty, 
with her innocent look; and he could not see 
in her anything but a charming little girl with 
a well- trained mind. For the gentle Henriette 
to attempt to struggle with Fabrezan seemed to 
him absurd, impossible. Then, at the end, he 
made a patronising gesture and said, “Well! 
Do your best!” 

This meant that to please Henriette he would 
permit even this extraordinary spectacle. What 
if she did play with her toys and break them? 
Even if her plaything was the great trial. Be- 
sides, Velines knew too much about th^se difficult 
cases, — these cases which concerned the appor- 
tioning of the children. What r61e must the 
lawyer play? He would elaborate, after stating 
his case, a brief which he would read before the 
judges. The Court never took long in its de- 
cisions; the sole interest was the welfare of the 
child. So, looking at the matter from that legal 
point of view, he decided that Henriette’s client 
risked but little. 

“And I will help you,” said he, aloud; “you 
can show me the papers when you receive 
them.” 

At this Henriette began to laugh, so gaily and 
sweetly, that it was not easy to see, under the 
laugh, her strong will and tenacity of purpose. 
“Oh, no, no, Andre! I shall work alone. It is 


The Pristine Male 87 

not necessary for you to assist me. I shall not 
use your arguments.” 

The advice of Suzanne Marty recurred to her 
mind. “The very day after your marriage you 
must insist upon the obligations of your profes- 
sion, and make your husband recognise them. 
If you delay, believe me, you will see how 
strong hereditary masculine tyranny is, and 
you will lose your independence, you will not 
have sufficient freedom to give yourself to 
your profession and to the work that you 
love.” 

Henriette began to see the possible interference 
of Andre in her professional work, to see her 
personality absorbed in that of a man, and to 
feel her will overpowered by the strong vitality 
of her husband. And he, without realising this 
mysterious resistance of her will, was still kissing 
her hands, like a happy lover who was soon to 
have the dearest of wives. 

“You shall never assist me in my work, Andre, 
never!” 

And he smiled. Let her play with her little 
toy, the dear little girl! Even if the plaything 
should be the Honour of the Profession! Let 
her play all her life 

At this moment Madame Marcadieu opened 
the door of the little reception-room. She seemed 
worried and depressed; her face looked pale, 
under the yellow coils of her showy false 
hair. 


88 


Love vs. Law 


Oh, my children, I am wretched. What do you 
think they have done now? In copying the design 
for the lamps they have forgotten to place the 
festoon under the pearls.” 


CHAPTER IV 


A GREAT lawyer’s CLIENTS 

F ABREZAN-CASTAGNAC, President of the 
Bar, owned a small house in the Place 
Malesherbes, where he lived with his daughter 
and son-in-law, having reserved the first two 
floors for himself. It was, however, in the court 
house that he felt the most at home, and there 
he spent most of his life, giving out that wonderful 
energy which sixty years of life had not diminished. 
It was there, under his professional robe, that he 
felt more at ease than in the comer of his own 
fireside. 

When, at a quarter of twelve, his automobile 
stopped on the boulevard, before the high iron 
and gold gates of the Palais, the dignified walk 
of the fine-looking old man resembled the tread 
of some majestic bullock, returning from his 
day’s work. 

In the court room of the Salle des Pas Perdus, 
he could be recognised among a hundred by the 
breadth of his huge shoulders, the great folds of 
his gown, and by the topknot of his cap, orna- 
mented with pins, which, with a mechanical 
89 


90 


Love vs. Law 


gesture, without interrupting an argument or 
discussion, he picked at while turning over the 
papers in his portfolio. Another of his manner- 
isms was the perpetual nibbling at dainties which 
he always carried in an inside pocket — little 
cakes, fruits, even sugar-plums, which he ate in 
full view of the audience, while his finely cut face 
with his white whiskers, resembling an old por- 
trait, looked mockingly out at his adversary. 

He loved the Palais de Justice — the picturesque 
old court house where he had worked for forty 
years. He loved the law; trials and debates 
interested him, even when they dealt with the 
most trivial matters. He could absorb himself 
deeply in a case which concerned only a woman’s 
blouse, and was always ready to laugh and joke 
over any small disagreement among his fellow- 
lawyers. 

He loved also the members of the Bar. With 
the young women-students he was always ready 
to discuss legal questions, quoting from many 
ancient authorities, like Paillet and Chaix-d’Est- ’ 
Ange, and his opening addresses before the Bar 
were marvels of literary style. He took his posi- 
tion as President seriously, being always ready 
to give advice. He spoke at the opening of the 
conference on the subject of '‘The Value of a 
Library.” 

From eight o’clock in the morning, he received 
clients in his study in the Place Malesherbes. 
This was a large room, furnished with books and 


A Great Lawyer s Clients 91 

rugs. His library filled three sides of it. The 
brilliant colours in the beautiful Persian rugs 
gave the room a gay, cheerful atmosphere. In 
the centre stood a huge desk, so disorderly that 
it was surprising that the President could ever 
find his papers. When he was seated there, his 
great white head cut out against a green back- 
ground, he looked as discreet as an ecclesiastic, 
as mischievous as a naughty boy; yet he had the 
astuteness of the Pope, and to his clients he seemed 
little less than a god. 

This morning was a springlike morning, at the 
beginning of March, and the thin curtains let in 
a blaze of sunlight. Fabrezan was opening his 
mail when he perceived on the table, among 
some other cards, the card of Madame Gevigne, 
a woman-client almost as famous in the court 
house as the President himself. The poor woman 
had waited since eight o'clock, coming from the 
foot of Vaugirard in an omnibus. She had risen 
before daylight, absorbed by this passion for liti- 
gation, which made her attach herself to lawyers 
much as religious women attach themselves to 
priests. Fabrezan shrugged his shoulders and 
continued to read his letters. But soon his 
curiosity was roused, and this drew his attention. 
It amused him to think over the number of 
complicated cases which this absurd woman was 
bringing against different people. He rang, as- 
sured himself that she had been the first visitor, 
and then gave the order to introduce her. 


92 


Love vs. Law 


She was badly gowned, pale, with the far-away 
look of an habitual gambler. At the sight of the 
great man she was seized with an access of devo- 
tion, and cried, clasping her hands, “Oh, my 
Master, how good you are to receive me!” Very 
coldly Fabrezan told her to sit down. 

“Madame, what do you wish?” 

Then, without any of those rambling preambles 
in which women so often indulge, and with her 
marvellously trained faculties accustomed to the 
impatience of business men, she began the story 
of her case. 

“Master, fifteen years ago, a man loaned ten 
thousand francs to one of his friends. Many years 
passed and the money was not repaid to him. 
Seven years later, the wife of the lender asked 
for a division of their property, and the law gave 
it to her. However, the husband, whose affairs 
were involved, saw how impossible it would be 
to return to his wife her dot, and then he thought 
of this debt of ten thousand francs, which would 
serve to replace the dot. This woman, his wife, 
was an aunt of mine. She died last year. I 
inherited from her. When I had this note in 
my hand, I claimed the payment; but the debtor 
produced a letter from the director of a society 
saying that this society had a claim on the estate 
for four thousand and seventy-five francs. As 
this society was bankrupt ” 

Fabrezan had listened with an impassive face, 
letting his long fingers play nervously with his 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 


93 


whiskers, and he was really much interested in 
the case; but he stopped her; “Madame, your 
case has come before the Court, if I am not mis- 
taken ; it was argued last week in the Third Court, 
and you were defended by Clementin, and it was 
postponed until the other side could be heard. ” 

She looked at him, blushing. Her gloves were 
cotton, and her nails appeared behind the holes. 
She shrugged her shoulders, in half surprise at 
his knowledge of the case. She was ignorant 
of the curious dilettante side of this great man. 
He loved petty civil cases, and often found them 
more exciting than greater ones; and he often 
strolled about among the audience, listening to 
their descriptions of odd cases, silently watching 
the foolish haste of young people, swearing under 
his breath at the folly of incapable old people, 
and gladly praising all the clever arguments which 
he heard. Only a few days before he had learned 
about the Gevigne case. 

“Then,” said he severely, “since you have a 
counsel, Madame, I do not see what brings you 
to me.” 

“Ah, Master,” replied the forlorn woman, 
with her half -wild eyes fixed upon the folds of 
her black dress, “Monsieur Clementin is young; 
I fear that he has not thoroughly discussed the 
case, that he has not thought of all the arguments ; 
I wish for your advice on this letter ; I have copied 
it — ^here it is ! ” And, stepping forward, she placed 
it on the desk. 


94 


Love vs. Law 


“Madame/’ said Fabrezan, facing her, “this 
letter does not interest me in the least ; it belongs 
in the portfolio of one of my honourable brother- 
lawyers, and should not have been abstracted 
from it.” 

He stood erect before her, solemn, dignified; 
his frock-coat hanging loosely over his large 
frame. His professional pride led him to speak 
thus of Clementin, this lawyer whose reputation 
was tarnished by his connection with doubtful 
cases, and whom he covered with his own mantle, in 
calling him an “Honourable member of the Bar.” 
And this woman, who knew herself to be ugly, 
mean, without any charm, incapable of influencing 
any man, trembled before him. 

“Master, a word only; you will find in this 
letter the words, the phrases, which serve to show 
the folly of this claim, and prove that this society 
has no right to collect the debt.” 

Fabrezan smiled without yielding and pushed 
the envelope towards her. At last Madame 
Gevigne took it, opened it, and with a slight 
shiver, disclosed in it a note of one hundred 
francs. It was an attempt at corruption; the 
effort was paltry; one final effort to cajole Fate 
by a woman who had been ruined by losing case 
after case in her absurd desire to enrich herself 
at the formidable lottery of Justice. 

“Madame,” replied Fabrezan, who folded up 
the letter with its contents and returned it to her, 
“ I repeat to you that there is nothing in this case 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 


95 


which can interest me.” A little touched, for 
his sentimental heart was easily moved by women’s 
sorrows, he courteously took her to the door, 
pressed her hand, and added suddenly, “ I promise 
you, however, to see Monsieur Clementin about 
your case.” 

From the waiting-room came a murmru* of 
voices, half hushed. Among clients there is one 
ever-present topic of conversation, — criticism of 
lawyers. All the members of the Bar were now 
put into the prisoners’ dock, — so to say, — and 
were accused of one weakness after another, the 
women being the most severe critics. Then 
Fabrezan called the next client on the list. 

A young and shy woman entered, dressed in 
black cloth, made simply but with great distinction 
of style. She had narrow soft blue eyes under her 
brown bands of hair, and was wholly unaccustomed 
to interviewing lawyers; so that it was difficult 
for her to explain her case, and the white eye- 
brows of Fabrezan frowned as he listened. 

She was called Madame Faustin. She was the 
daughter of a poor army-officer, but had been 
well educated, and had married, six years before, 
the head of a law firm. Her husband was counsel 
for a small bank in the Rue Quatre Septembre, 
in which he had placed her whole dot, seventeen 
thousand francs. She had been very unhappy, 
she repeated, yes, very unhappy; but she 
did not give any details. She had suffered 
deeply. 


96 


Love vs. Law 


“Has your husband deceived you?*’ asked 
Fabrezan, brutally. 

“Oh, yes, many, many times; and he even does 
not respect me in my own house ” 

She blushed — not wishing to express herself 
more fully. Fabrezan had to drag from her the 
fact that one evening, when she returned from a 
visit to her father, she found her husband had 
introduced into her home a woman of bad repu- 
tation. But this was not the question about 
which she wished to consult the great lawyer. 
Madame passed very rapidly over the sins of her 
husband, which she hated to speak of to an un- 
known man, and at last told him of the flight of 
her husband, who had abandoned her, leaving 
her with a little girl four years old. 

“You must have a divorce,” said Fabrezan. 

“Oh, no, no! Monsieur, I do not wish to be 
divorced.” She rose with a sudden air of 
resolution in her blue eyes. 

“Why? Do you still love your husband?” 

“Oh, I am not sure of that; but he will always 
be my husband. I believe — I am very religious, 
and the Catholic Church forbids divorce.” 

However, she then proceeded to state her case. 
Could she not force the father to provide for 
his child? And she then described the circum- 
stances; her dot had almost disappeared, with the 
exception of eight notes of five hundred francs 
each, which she had sold since the flight of her 
husband, to supply her needs. 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 


97 


‘'It is a year since he left me,” she explained, 
very humbly. “And, notwithstanding all possible 
economies, I have now spent about all of my 
money. ” 

“But, Madame,” said the old lawyer, “your 
husband owes you alimony. The law can force 
him to pay it. You should have seen a lawyer 
immediately and brought an action against him. 
Why did you wait until your resources were so 
nearly exhausted?” 

She blushed hotly, and her air of good breeding 
contrasted strongly with her confession. She 
continued, “Oh, Monsieur, it was so disagreeable 
to me to take his money, to live off his charity! 
I tried everything before going to him. I tried 
foolishly to take care of my own business affairs. 
I hired a tiny apartment and did my own work. 
I tried to teach, but I know very little, and I had 
no diploma. I wished to go into the civil service 
but I was too old; telegraphy interested me but 
I was not able to learn it. Very soon I shall 
not be able to pay my rent. So I am now forced 
to do, what in my pride and anger a year ago, 
I would have thought impossible.” 

“But, Madame, it is only proper that your 
husband should support you and his child. ” 

She trembled with excitement. “Yes, but — Oh, 
how I wish I needed not take money from him. 
If it were not for my child ” 

Her proud eyes, expressing so much nobility, 
were raised to the lawyer's in utter misery, and 


98 


Love vs. Law 


although she was pretty, graceful, and vigorous 
in health, she was utterly wretched, at having 
wrecked her life and now possessing no means 
of support. 

And Fabrezan could only pity her; she had 
somehow hoped that this great man would give 
her some miraculous counsel, and suggest some 
means by which she could live v/ithout applying 
to her husband. Instead, the old jurist was very 
firm with her, and told her the necessary steps 
to take, presenting the matter to her as a duty 
she owed to her child. First, there must be a 
letter to her husband; then, in case of his refusal, 
a lawyer must see him, and she must choose 
the lawyer; and all this advice he gave, as if 
he were speaking to an incompetent and feeble 
child. 

“Poor little woman!” he commented when she 
left, “and there are so many more situated exactly 
as she is.” 

These unfortunate women were constantly 
appealing to him for advice. He watched this 
otie depart, and made a gesture as if to put away 
from him such sad thoughts. And almost imme- 
diately Madame Velines, with her portfolio under 
her arm, entered for a professional call. 

“How do you do. President Fabrezan?” 

“How do you do, dear brother?” 

The President always addressed her thus, a 
little ironically, not taking very seriously this 
intrusion of women into the Bar. He treated 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 


99 


them with gallantry, like a courteous man; but, 
really he disliked this influx of women-lawyers. 

Henriette entered his office with so much dignity 
and energy, that she made a strong contrast with 
the forlorn specimen of womanhood who had 
just left him. 

“Mr. President, I come to discuss the Marty 
case. 

In a brief conversation she made it clear that 
she wished to see certain papers which were in 
the possession of Alembert. She had a medical 
certificate which said that the Alembert child was 
in delicate health, and required the care of his 
mother, and Henriette had thought of using this 
very effectively in her argument. But she had 
heard from Madame Marty that the boy’s father 
had also consulted a physician, and had obtained 
a certificate which said the exact opposite. Did 
Monsieur Fabrezan possess this document? 

Master Fabrezan leaned on his desk, his hand 
playing with his whiskers, listening with much 
politeness, and smiling affably on this pretty, 
earnest, clever little woman, who was such a 
profound student of her profession. He was 
charmed by her manner, and scarcely thought 
of her as a lawyer and his adversary. 

“Why, yes, dear Madame; as you supposed, I 
have a medical certificate, and I will let you have 
a copy on the condition of course that you give 
me a copy of your certificate.” 

He looked over several btmdles of papers in a 


100 


Love vs. Law 


box, took out a stamped sheet, and both gravely 
exchanged their papers on the desk. Each one 
was absorbed in reading, and there was a moment 
of silence. At last Fabrezan shrugged his shoul- 
ders contemptuously, and said, sourly, ‘‘The 
child is absolutely well, however. My client 
is in the right. If I had been the father the boy 
would long ago have been in the Lycee.’' 

“Unless, Mr. President, Madame Fabrezan, — 
more clear sighted than you, through her maternal 
affection, — ^had not believed it best to wait a 
year or two.’^ 

Then with her lips firmly set, and her whole 
face nervously alive, she copied into her book 
the medical certificate, which said that the boy^s 
constitution was strong and that he was able to 
begin his studies in some large school. Henriette 
wrote quickly, and Fabrezan watched her, and 
thought that in spite of her delicacy she yet gave 
the impression of possessing great intellectual 
strength. Then he compared her with the woman 
who had just left him, that unhappy creature 
unable to manage her own business, and as help- 
less as a child in the face of adversity. Here 
was little Madame Velines, educated like a man, 
and like a man able to face the trials and tribu- 
lations of life. Suddenly the thought came to 
him, why not educate all women, even the rich, 
in this way, and prepare them for the struggle 
of life? With a dot in one hand, and a profession 
in the other, they could face life prepared for 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients loi 

any emergency. What distressing situations 
would then be avoided? If only they could all 
be like this simple good little Velines, whose hus- 
band must indeed be a happy mortal. 

All these thoughts were chasing one another 
through the heated brain of this passionate man, 
whose home was in Southern France, during 
the time that Henriette was busy with her copy. 
When she lifted her head the President, forgetting 
they were adversaries, asked, “And Velines, how 
is he, dear Madame? I hope that you give him 
some golden days.’* 

“Most certainly,” replied she; “I married 
Andre to make him happy, Mr. President. He 
makes me happy. We love each other.” 

“That is charming. I can fancy your legal 
household. Love and Equity! Dreams over the 
civil law code! You work at the same table, 
and interrupt the work for a kiss. You begin to 
discuss your cases, and end by discussing matters 
that are utterly foreign to our dry profession.” 

But Henriette protested. “No, no, Mr. Presi- 
dent, do not speak so lightly of us! We are much 
more serious than that. First, we have separate 
offices, and the business of one has absolutely 
nothing to do with that of the other. Oh, I know 
you would prefer to feel that in arguing this case 
against me you had Velines, also, on the other 
side ; that you faced a man behind me ; that under 
my rhetoric the clear and judicial intelligence of 
my husband would be found. It is certain that 


102 


Love vs. Law 


all this, for a celebrated lawyer like you, would 
have been much more interesting. But you have 
only to fight me, poor unknown little lawyer that 
I am. I know that my audacity is great, and 
at times I tremble. But you must pardon my 
faith in my case. I am like David, Mr. President, 
while you are the giant Goliath; but I defend a 
case which I believe in; I feel that I have truth 
on my side. I am wholly devoted to my pro- 
fession ; to my mind it is the greatest of professions, 
the most generous, the most independent; and I 
am so proud of being a lawyer that my enthusiasm 
exalts me. I have such a fervent desire to win 
my case that I sometimes tremble from head to 
foot. You do not understand how I work; and, 
when I am absorbed in a case, the world outside 
me wholly disappears; my dear Andre himself 
can scarcely divert me. I have divided myself 
into two parts: one part belongs to my husband; 
the other I have reserved ; it is my secret kingdom ; 
marriage has not affected it. My liberty, the 
personality which made me what I was before 
my marriage, I keep untouched. My husband 
has no rights over it. He knows this, and leaves 
me to work alone on my arguments.” 

^‘Hear! Hear!” cried Fabrezan, laughing, 
“you are one of the modern Amazons, one of the 
intellectual Amazons, free and fearless.” 

“I am what I wish to be,” replied the young 
woman, proudly. 

But Fabrezan, under his laughing manner, 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 


103 


was a little disturbed by her declaration. He 
had known the charming Henriette for ten years. 
He had for her the courteous affection of an old 
friend of her father. Notwithstanding her de- 
votion to her studies, and her degrees, he had 
always admired her for her feminine charm and 
grace. Suddenly the masculine energy in this 
delicate creature amazed him, and new horizons 
arose upon his sight. Then he asked himself 
frankly, seeing her so determined, ^‘What sort 
of wife would this girl make? Will Velines al- 
ways be happy? If woman, who has already 
gained so many social victories, in this age, 
should acquire masculine strength of purpose, 
might not the whole social system be changed?” 

However, Henriette was evidently in a hurry; 
and she buttoned her jacket and her gloves, took 
her heavy portfolio, and said that she must spend 
the rest of the morning in the Saint-Lazare, 
seeing a client recommended by Mademoiselle 
Angely. 

Adieu, Mr. President!” 

Adieu, dear brother!” replied Fabrezan, hold- 
ing her hand. Then, after a moment, he said: 
“Remember me to Vehnes. Continue to be 
very happy, my dear, and believe in the old 
President when he says, 'Do not divide yourself. 
Give your whole best self to your husband!’ ” 

“Yes, yes!” replied Henriette, gaily, and she 
reflected, “Madame Marty was right. The men 
all combine against us.” 


104 


Love vs. Law 


The President watched her as she disappeared 
through the doorway, and his smile did not im- 
mediately die away from his face. 

When he returned to his office, he looked at his 
watch. It was half -past nine; and he decided 
that he had better hurry his visitors or he would 
not reach the Palais de Justice until noon. 

Once more the doors of the waiting-room opened, 
and a young man entered, — so tall a man that 
he stooped a little. The President had difficulty 
in restraining himself from looking bored. “Good 
morning, my poor friend.” 

It was the engineer Alembert. And this rich, 
cultivated man, a favourite in society, entered 
timidly, as if afraid of a rebuff, and stood 
half-hesitating. 

“You know that I have nothing new to tell 
you,” said Fabrezan. 

Alembert emitted a nervous little laugh. 

“I know that I come here too often. This is 
my fourth visit this week — but, to-day, I assure 
you that I have a good reason for my visit.” 

“My friend,” said Fabrezan, putting one hand 
on his shoulder, “it is not your lawyer that you 
should consult, but your physician. You are 
not yet forty years old, but you are dying fast. 
It must be that you have something wrong with 
your stomach and your liver; of course this is 
not my business.” 

The man addressed replied with forced gaiety. 
‘^I am very, very well, I assure you.” 


105 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 

In truth his skin was loose; his hair, which had 
been allowed to grow too long, hung over his 
right temple and was growing grey; and his eyes 
had sunk under his thick eyebrows — heavy eyes, 
which ten years earlier had been sparkling and 
mischievous. 

''My friend, you must face your life with more 
courage. All men have their troubles. You 
have yours, I know, but there are many worse ones. ’ ’ 

"Yes, certainly I should be resigned; I must 
accept my trials with patience.” 

"Think, my poor man, what you would do if 
your son had died.” 

"If my son had died, my dear sir, I would 
have had, at first, a period of intense grief; then, 
little by little, I would have become accustomed 
to his absence, and my pain would have been 
eased. But my son is living, and I am becoming 
a stranger to him. He loves me, and yet I am 
forbidden to see him. He is developing, mentally 
and physically, and yet I am losing forever this 
period of his young life. I see him just enough 
to keep me from forgetting him. Yesterday was 
Thursday; I saw him!” 

He stopped. His eyes looked beyond the 
window curtains, beyond the automobiles and 
the cabs, as if they saw a vision. The sound 
of a heavy black tram-car was heard; when it 
passed, it shook the house; Alembert continued: 
"I asked him if he wished to stay with me, and 
he replied, 'Yes’.” 


io6 Love vs. Law 

‘‘You have told me that, ten times already; 
his reply has always been the same. But his 
response will not weigh in the smallest degree 
with the Court. This child says ‘Yes,' because 
you wish him to say ‘yes.' Your son is almost 
twelve years old; he is no longer a child." 

“I know," answered Alembert, dreamily, “he 
is nearly a man, now." 

He looked away; his eyes were melancholy; 
he seemed much depressed. Without doubt he 
was living over again the few hours which his 
son had passed with him; for example, his arrival, 
when he was perhaps a little timid because he was 
not in his own home; at first he seated himself on 
a footstool, and began to talk quite like a grown 
person. Then his own sudden passionate feeling 
that this was indeed his son, and he had thrown 
himself on his knees and embraced him, sobbing 
foolishly. “Will you stay with me? Will you 
stay always? " And the poor child, moved deeply, 
responded, “Yes." 

But, as Fabrezan had truly disclosed; “It would 
not have been possible for little Marcel to have 
said ‘No'." 

“Let us proceed," directed the old lawyer. 
“What have you that is new?" 

“A letter. A letter which I hope will help 
our side. A friend of mine, whose son is a play- 
fellow of Marcel, gave it to me yesterday. The 
two children write to each other. This is Mar- 
cel's own composition. Read it, my dear sir. " 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 107 

Fabrezan was very near-sighted, and he held 
the little piece of paper very near his eyes, where 
he could see the cramped laboured handwriting 
of the little boy. While looking he read aloud: 

“My dear Jean, — I went yesterday to the 
Luxembourg with mamma, and hoped to see you, 
but did not meet you. On the day of Mid-Lent 
I shall be out on my grandmother’s balcony, to 
see the procession. I shall ask my grandmother 
to invite you there also. Where papa is living 
the procession could be seen much better. I am 
very homesick for dear papa, and I wish that I 
could go and see him oftener. He dines with 
you often, so please give him my love.” Here a 
great blot covered the phrase. Fabrezan took 
the letter to the window, and tried to make it 
out more clearly; but Alembert, who had pre- 
viously tried the same experiment, said: “Oh, 
I recognise his mother’s action. I have made out 
that phrase; it is ‘I wish much to be near him.’ 
But my wife would not allow those words to go, 
and she blotted them out.” 

“Precisely,” replied Fabrezan, “that phrase is 
clear now, and the letters agree with the words 
you say. Oh, well, I shall keep the letter, it 
will be very important in my argument. ” 

“I thought so,” said the poor man, whose 
face was now brighter. “The will of the child 
is clear, here. ‘Tell my father that I wish much 
to be near him. ’ It seems to me that this will 
certainly influence the Court.” 


io8 


Love vs. Law 


“Do not be too sanguine! We shall do our 
best, but think of all that your wife has in her 
favour, her great intelligence, which makes her 
able to conduct the studies of a child — think 
also of her dignity and her purity/’ 

“Oh, oh,” said Alembert, with an impatient 
gesture. “What are her dignity and purity to me! 
My fault, yes I know I am to blame, I was abso- 
lutely happy with one of the most beautiful wives 
in Paris. She was good and intellectual as well; 
and I loved her, and I have never ceased to love 

her. Indeed now, if she wished ” 

He stopped, half-wild with excitement, and 
then made a gesture of despair, as if he saw his 
lost fireside again, and realised what he had thrown 
away. He glanced at Fabrezan, who was won- 
derfully observing and understood how much the 
memory of his wife still troubled him. 

Alembert went on: “It was only the impulse 
of a moment ; you know the story as well as I do. 
The foolish curiosity I had, to see a woman who 
sang in a Cafe Chantant. She was nothing more 
to me than a plaything, a young graceful animal 
with whom I might amuse myself for a few weeks. 
All my heart, all my mind, all my admiration 
were for Suzanne; the time that I spent with this 
other woman was very short. Suzanne was the 
wife of my soul, my only true love. Do not 
believe that I consider myself blameless! I was 
indeed unfaithful to my wife, and when a friend 
of her mother’s told her, she suffered greatly, and 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients 109 


my own regrets showed me the depths of my own 
sin. But speak to me, my old friend, and say 
if you do not think my wife ceased to be blameless 
when she became so severe with me! It is not 
Suzanne that I want now, I am resigned to giving 
her up. I wish I had hold of some of those modern 
women who preach a new gospel to our wives! 
I have listened to them myself, and even sympa- 
thised a little with their wonderful theories. 
When Suzanne came home, in the evening, all 
alive with excitement over the wonderful lecture 
of Madame Surg^res, and read me extracts con- 
cerning the freedom of women, and justice for 
women, I was almost convinced. For me the 
emancipated woman, the dignified woman, my 
equal, was Suzanne, who sat under the same lamp 
with me, discussing these theories so intelligently. 
Suzanne, so intelligent and beautiful, my comrade, 
my associate, my other self ! And I saw all these 
adorable women through her eyes. 

“Notwithstanding their superiority,'' he con- 
tinued excitedly, “it seems to me that they all 
talk in an exaggerated style. After they have 
reiterated the words ‘We are equal to men' they 
finally say ‘we are exactly like men.' Then 
comes a moral crisis, and some women demand 
to be allowed to share the vices of men, while 
others demand of men a standard of virtue equal 
to their own. After all, it is a question of tem- 
perament. I have never deceived Suzanne; she 
was proud of my faithfulness; she believed in it 


no 


Love vs. Law 


as she did in her own; our rights and duties were 
the same. She was right, from a legal standpoint, 
but this particular sin affects the man and the 
woman differently. On the part of the woman 
the sin may irrevocably injure the family. This 
argument is not new, but it is just.’’ 

“Only think,” continued the engineer, “how 
great is the gift of the woman who pledges her 
honour, her modesty, her reputation, and bestows 
herself absolutely, while the man ” 

And, bowing his head, he snapped his fingers 
in the air with a light gesture as if to say how 
slight was the caprice for which he had sacrificed 
his happiness. 

“Evidently,” said the old lawyer, who had 
seen many things in life, “you have been less to 
blame, you have sinned less against religion, 
than the woman who gives a little of her heart to 
some waiting lover. Women can be unfaithful 
to us in thought, and offend more than we do 
by physical inconstancy. But if there is a case 
where the fault of the husband is unpardonable 
it is yours, my poor friend; for you had a loyal 
wife and companion, who never let herself indulge 
in even a sentimental flirtation.” 

Alembert, whose imagination was entirely di- 
rected toward the past, replied, “Yes, Suzanne 
had the right to be severe; I have read her trans- 
parent conscience. Young when we first loved, 
we did not marry for three years; she was loved, 
courted, tempted, then. With great frankness, she 


A Great Lawyer’s Clients iii 


told me all this. There was not a thought 
or a feeling of her heart that she did not confide 
to me. She was a perfect wife. ” Then, with the 
sigh of a hopelessly dejected man, he declared, 
‘‘But I must have my son.” 

Fabrezan had let him, as so many times before, 
confess himself intimately. It was owing to the 
fact that he had the complete confidence of his 
clients that he seemed to carry their souls with 
him before the Court. There was nothing in 
their most secret history that did not interest 
him. 

“Yes,” said he, “I will argue in this way: 
Madame Marty desired a divorce, and her hus- 
band did not wish it. Now she must submit to 
the consequences and lose her son.” 

As he took his leave, Alembert pressed Fabre- 
zan’s hand, and looked up at him as if at a superior 
being, who controlled his destiny. The Master 
tried to revive his spirits, but vainly. 

‘ ‘ Courage, my friend ! ” he enjoined. “You will 
see, all will go well!” 

It began to grow late. Several people were 
waiting. Fabrezan sent them away, and only 
allowed one more client in, an old friend whom 
he was defending in a case which concerned some 
“real estate.” 

The man asked, as he entered the room, “Whom 
did you have with you, Fabrezan? I met a 
wretched looking man as I came in.” 

“My dear,” responded the President, “in my 


II2 


Love vs. Law 


profession we see much unhappiness; but I have 
rarely been more touched than to-day. 

“A woman?” 

“No, a man; and formerly one of the most 
brilliant men in Parisian society. My friend, 
I feel that if I do not win his case, the foolish 
fellow will go to pieces. ” 


CHAPTER V 


IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH 

A fter her marriage Henriette Velines enjoyed 
her active professional life still more, as 
well as the broader life of a married woman. 

She rose at seven o’clock, with religious punc- 
tuality, and always went over the house, carefully 
inspecting the smallest details, taking pride in 
having her housekeeping above criticism. Her 
husband was constantly surprised at his wife’s 
wonderful executive ability and at the skill with 
which she went from her law-office to her book 
of household accounts. He smiled at seeing 
her, dressed in her wrapper, running all over the 
house, opening drawers and closets, looking after 
the butter, sugar, and household supplies. 

Although the young married couple were both 
young and inexperienced, Henriette believed in 
being economical, and, hoping perhaps to have 
a large family, did not approve beginning on an 
expensive scale. 

Even in the first week of their married life 
she had objected to the purchase of an automobile 
by her husband, whose tastes were perhaps more 


1 14 Love vs. Law 

extravagant than hers. Andre wished Henriette 
to hire a maid to assist her; thus they could 
hold weekly receptions when they might receive 
the older members of the Bar. But the young 
wife found that the study of law, and the depress- 
ing sight of ruined fortunes and business failures, 
had increased in her a spirit of economy. She 
determined never to have her household brought 
to ruin through her extravagance. So many of 
the homes in Paris, outwardly luxurious, were on 
the brink of ruin, because women persisted in 
living beyond their incomes, and in running 
more and more deeply into debt, year after year, 
until the final and inevitable crash came. 

Account-book in hand Henriette discussed 
with Andre their business affairs. Andre had 
farms in Normandy which brought rents amount- 
ing to five or six thousand francs each year. 
Henriette’ s dot amounted to more than this, and 
altogether they had more than fifteen thousand 
francs — or three thousand dollars a year. She 
did not count the fees which she received, which 
would not have paid for her clothes. Besides 
this Andre had begun to make eight or ten thou- 
sand francs a year; and certainly these young 
people were very comfortable. But Henriette 
wished to have a large margin, so that any future 
expenses, such as the birth of a child, would not 
bring anxiety. Therefore she did not wish an 
automobile. As for household service — they had 
a man and wife ; the man acted as valet de chamhre, 


In Sickness and in Health 115 


and his wife was an excellent cook; these were 
enough for the present. Then, as to entertaining, 
— Henriette was delighted to receive Andre’s 
fellow-members of the Bar, informally; but she 
did not enjoy large receptions. She had no 
social ambition, and thought it was absurd to 
pretend to greater riches than they had. They 
were happy together, what did they want of the 
world? 

Velines was a little surprised, at first, to find 
his wife so indifferent to what most women 
enjoyed, and to hear these words of wisdom from 
her girlish lips. He agreed with her, however, 
outwardly, but in his heart dreamed of a more 
luxurious life. In ten years his rents would be 
doubled; his reputation, which had been rapidly 
increasing, would be still greater. He longed 
to be famous. Then money would be plenty, 
and no client would dream of asking his advice 
without offering a large fee. So he smiled at 
the counsels of his sensible little wife. While 
waiting for those days of opulence to come, he 
thought of her wonderful skill in all practical 
matters, and of her talent for household economy. 
“Women’s superiority will always be there,” he 
said. 

The care of the household took only one hour 
each morning. Another hour was used by Hen- 
riette for her toilette. She had no assistance 
from a maid. She desired to feel herself one of 
the army of workers, like the courageous Martinal 


ii6 Love vs. Law 

or Louise Pemette. She believed in simplicity 
and work, and wished to learn to depend on herself. 
Her beautiful hair took more time every day than 
she wished, but before ten o’clock, she was neatly 
and attractively gowned, and ready for her day’s 
work. 

She had to pass through her husband’s office, 
to reach her own. Since early in the morning 
Andre had been deep in his legal work. Mar- 
riage had given him a new start. Several im- 
portant cases had come to him since his return 
from Scotland. One was a suit against a business 
company in Paris. During the restoration of a 
public monument some owners of neighbouring 
estates had suffered injuries. Other smaller cases 
had resulted from this one, and one of the pro- 
prietors who had demanded damages, had even 
consulted him about his own divorce. 

Finally, in March, there had come the most 
famous case he had ever argued, and it came 
without effort on his part, and wholly on his 
increasing reputation. The directors of the Con- 
tinental Bank were accused of a colossal swindling 
scheme. It was one of those trials which bring 
a lawyer immediately before the public. His 
preparation of his argument was marvellously 
assisted by the business sagacity of one of the 
accused financiers. At times Andre tried to 
interest Henriette in this case, and to have her 
read some of the papers which interested him. 

“Here is a letter,” he said, “which I have in- 


In Sickness and in Health 


117 

duced my client to bring me. It is a great find. 
I almost might have been thought to have fabri- 
cated it. See what assistance it will be to me 
in my case.” 

But Henriette did not give Andre much sym- 
pathy in his work. She was proud of him, and 
praised him, much as a mother might encourage 
her son. 

“You will present a fine argument. The debate 
will be long, for it is a case which concerns such 
large interests. I do not know any one at the 
Bar who is so capable of making an argument in 
this case as you are. You will surely win.” 

“Oh,” protested he, smiling, “how about 
Blondel?” 

“No, no, my dearest, you alone!” Then she 
threw her arms about his broad shoulders, and 
pressed a kiss on his forehead, and caressed his 
cheek, praising his wonderful intelligence — but 
she would not read his letter. 

Instinctively the yoimg wife avoided sharing 
her husband’s work; and tried to interest herself 
in it as though she were a wife wholly ignorant 
of law and only desirous to have her husband 
happy. In the same way with her own legal 
work, she never tried to arouse the interest of 
her husband in her cases. She preferred to act 
as though she were a wife wholly ignorant of law. 
She never discussed her arguments with him, or 
even told him the names of her cases. He had 
often tried to advise her, but she always refused 


Love vs. Law 


ii8 

to listen to him, and systematically followed her 
own judgment. She felt her own mind to be 
wholly unlike his, and thought the collaboration 
between them would make her lose her own 
individuality. 

Andre scarcely understood her rather emotional 
manner of work. It was a little after the “Im- 
pressionist” style. She threw herself into each 
case with the greatest enthusiasm, and, while 
she was working, was in such a state of excitement 
that she seemed almost in a trance. She had, 
however, too much reason not to realise the folly 
of this proceeding, and tried to concentrate her 
attention upon rules of the code, and to memorise 
other cases, to relieve her nervous system. Never- 
theless, this part of her work was not easy for 
her. It was when her emotions were aroused 
that she worked best. 

These habits of work were not understood 
by the dispassionate and methodical Velines. 
He would have preferred to induce his wife to 
try a different method of preparing a brief. He 
himself re-wrote his arguments many times. 
Reams of paper were used up with notes of old 
cases, and each part of a case was put under a 
separate heading. He began to think of his 
audience only when the whole case was clearly 
in his mind. It almost seemed as though he had 
inherited from his grandfather, Mansart, the 
Rouen notary, this method of building up his 
case; it was like a bit of carpentry, a set of dry 


In Sickness and in Health 119 

statements, with scarcely a word of his own to 
join them. These facts, gathered from many 
law books, were his arguments. Between Hen- 
riette and Andre there was the difference in 
habits of work which there always is between men 
and women, between those who think and those 
who feel. While Henriette loved Andre, she 
feared his lack of sympathy with her emotions, 
and concealed from him the best part of herself. 
So Andre had to rest content with having her 
do her work in her own way, and to letting her 
shut herself up alone in her office every morning 
until lunch. 

Soon after lunch they left together for the 
Palais de Justice, passing the wonderful Cathedral, 
whose resonant chimes so powerfully recalled 
scenes of great historic interest, then crossing 
the Place Dauphine, they mounted the new stair- 
case which, with its fresh white marble, made the 
greyness of the palace walls more evident. 

The handsome young married couple were 
recognised by many people. They always ap- 
peared together, and after their long morning 
spent over their studies they felt gay and light- 
hearted, and laughed and joked together, watching 
with amusement the array of clients, seated on 
the long benches, who ran eagerly after their 
counsel. Then they exchanged greetings with 
their fellow-members of the Bar, who were 
hurrying to the other halls. Sometimes Louise 
Pernette, dressed in her gown, and with an anxious 


120 


Love vs. Law 


look, rushed hurriedly by, and a moment later 
it might be Maurice Servais, walking in a melan- 
choly way in search of his fiancee. 

In the lobby Henriette saw the young students 
Jeanne de Louvrol and Marie Morvan, so timid 
that they could not make up their minds to plead in 
Court, notwithstanding the influence of Made- 
moiselle Angely, who wished to have the old palace 
full of women-lawyers. Suddenly the rustling of a 
dress, the peculiar sound made by a silk petticoat, 
caused the group of lawyers to turn round as they 
stood idly Angering their caps and leaning against 
the dressing-room doors; then Isabelle Geronce, 
dignified and handsome, entered the room, leaving 
behind her a strong scent of violet powder. In 
the reception-rooms friendly faces were seen. 
There were many gesticulating hands, covered 
with the huge sleeves. Here was Fabrezan, 
talking to some of the young students; there was 
Blondel, who was to argue an important case to- 
to-day; and Temisien, who came in breathless, 
with a little ermine trimming on his hood, — 
the sign of the criminal lawyer. He wished to 
postpone his case until the eighth. 

Everybody seemed to arrive at about two 
o’clock, in the Salle des Pas Perdus. There were 
some who were envious of Velines; his success 
made them angry, and they criticised him harshly, 
in low tones. These nursed the germs of ill- 
will, arising from jealousy and envy; they could 
not bear to see a fellow-lawyer “arrive.” They 


In Sickness and in Health 


I2I 


asked him foolish questions, hoping to make him 
open his portfolio and show them his argument. 
But, notwithstanding all these rivalries, much of 
the strength of the Bar was due to its solidarity, 
and its powerful esprit de corps. 

Later, when the court had adjourned, the 
lawyers dispersed, entering their different offices 
much as bees enter their hives. 

Usually Velines and Henriette separated at, 
once, frequently arguing their cases in different 
wings of the Palais de Justice, he more often in 
the Civil Court, and she in the Criminal Court. 
Sometimes, after she had received her instructions, 
she left the Palais without Velines, jumping into 
a cab to be taken to the Petite Roquette prison 
or to Saint-Lazare prison; her humanitarian 
enthusiasm was always freshly stimulated by 
seeing Mademoiselle Angely. 

From five to seven o’clock. Monsieur and 
Madame Velines held consultations. Their large 
waiting-room was often very full, but most of 
the clients were for Andre. Henriette occasion- 
ally saw Madame Marty, who became fever- 
ishly anxious as the hour drew near for her trial. 
This fashionable divorcee, while waiting in the 
Louis XIII Salon in the Place Dauphine, fre- 
quently had for her companions the poor and 
forlorn parents of some wretched little culprit, 
whom Henriette was to attempt to defend in 
the Criminal Court on the following day. 

The young couple at last found themselves 


122 


Love vs. Law 


alone, and dined in delightful intimacy, forgetting 
that they were lawyers, and talking of everything 
but law. Then Henriette, laying aside her work, 
devoted herself wholly to her husband, opening 
to him joyously the contents of her clever and 
well-furnished mind. She was sensitive, spirituelle, 
and keenly alive to all the higher suggestions of 
the throbbing life about her. Vehnes was amused 
by her, much as he might have been by the 
chirping of a dainty little bird. During the 
evenings they often visited friends. Their life 
was calm and sweet, and they seemed almost to 
have evolved a new and beautiful ideal of marriage. 

At the beginning of May, Velines was taker; ill. 
He had so much determination and will, however, 
that he did not leave his office or give up his 
cases. The youthful Henriette, who had the 
optimism which often comes from a lack of 
experience, did not worry over his illness, but 
said half-absently, “Take your rest, my dear.” 
Finally, one evening, at the consultation hour, 
the door of her office opened, and Andre, pale, 
weak, and shivering, entered and said, “I feel 
very ill.” 

This was the first real shock of pain that had 
come to Henriette since she had been bom into 
a peaceful, happy world. With astonished eyes 
she saw Andre shaking with chills and fever. 
For the first time she realized that misfortune 
could come to her, as to so many others, and that 
disease could seize even her husband. Much 


In Sickness and in Health 


123 


alarmed, without speaking, she put her arms 
around him, took him to their room, and put him 
to bed with a sort of solemnity, as if there were 
something sacred in her tenderness, and that 
she now for the first time realised her great love 
for him. While the valet de chambre ran for 
the doctor, she stood anxiously near the bed, 
thinking with intense anxiety that perhaps he 
might die. 

Her fears were not imreasonable and the doctor 
shared them. The greatest suffering seemed to 
be in the throat. When, after an examination, 
Henriette saw a metal probe put into his mouth, 
gently touching the tonsils, she knew the illness; 
she imderstood everything; the analysis of the 
membrane, the bacilli, the terrible diphtheria; and 
darkest fears haimted her throughout the entire 
night. 

The doctor left, and the long sad hours of 
waiting began. The days were already length- 
ening, and through the open window could be seen 
the iron railings of the balcony which looked 
like a cage, and the head of the linden tree, in 
the centre of the court, and the twittering 
sparrows seeking a resting-place. 

Henriette restrained her tears with difficulty. 
Andre, who could not utter a word without 
suffering, remained silent. After a short time 
Henriette lay down on the pillow beside him, and 
both looked at each other, while the awful dread 
of an eternal separation held them mute. 


124 


Love vs. Law 


Andre made an effort to smile, and whispered, 
'‘My poor darling!” 

Henriette felt her self-control almost gone. 
She leaned on the bed, and embracing Andre, 
said: 

“I am not anxious, you know. This is nothing 
serious.” 

But he perceived the untruth of her words ; and 
he could see that she was alarmed. He believed 
himself doomed. Then a profound regret filled 
their souls. To be obliged to separate, after only 
four months of their sweet union, when they had 
longed for a whole life in which to know each 
other! In spite of their efforts at self-control, 
they wept. They thought of everything, as if 
they were on the eve of taking a long journey. 

Late in the evening the doctor returned, having 
made an examination of the serum. He at once 
proposed to send a nurse from the Hotel-Dieu 
for the night. But Henriette, pale, with altered 
features, looked passionately at her husband and 
said, "No, no! I will stay beside him alone.” 

The doctor tried to insist, but she continued 
to reply, "No!” Her voice faltered, and he 
understood that she would not leave her husband’s 
bed one moment. As he went out he drew her 
to the front room, where a small lamp burned, and 
the glow on the old pastels was reflected upon the 
walls. He leaned over to her. "I must say, 
Madame, that you are in duty bound to take 
all the artificial precautions possible against this 


In Sickness and in Health 


125 


contagion. Your husband will I hope throw off 
this terrible disease. It is not necessary to act as 
if he were fatally ill. If you do not wish to give up 
his case to a nurse, you can at least avoid leaning 
over his bed and aU personal contact.” 

“Yes, Doctor.” Then she returned to Andre, 
put her arms around his neck, exulting foolishly 
in the thought that she was going to throw away 
her life for him. Smiling at him she even breathed 
his breath. 

The long hours of the night were painful to 
both nurse and patient. Gargling relieved his 
throat, and he had only moments of restless, 
feverish sleep. Anxiously Henriette sat near 
his bed, watching him as he slept. How she 
loved him! How could she continue to live if 
he died! She would never have believed it 
possible that she could love so deeply. Then 
she reflected upon their little courtship, which 
had been like a delightful romantic friendship, 
the strength of which she had scarcely suspected. 
She thought now, “If he dies, I shall throw 
myself on his bed and die beside him.” At 
other times, she reproached herself with not having 
expressed more fully this intensity of feeling 
of which she had been scarcely conscious. If 
only she had more fully shown her love, in ca- 
resses and loving words! Oh, he must recover! 
And her tears wet the lace of the pillow where 
tossed the restless head of her young husband. 

Sometimes she feU on her knees at the foot 


126 


Love vs. Law 


of the bed and prayed. She called upon God, 
praying with the fervor of a child and appeahng 
to the Virgin and all the saints. By a tremendous 
effort she quickly recovered herself, smiling 
serenely each time that Andre opened his eyes. 

The next morning, Andre seemed better; in 
the afternoon the thermometer rose. Madame 
Mansart, notified by a despatch, arrived from 
Rouen, at four o'clock. Henriette threw herself 
sobbing into her arms. 

“Oh, my poor girl, is it then hopeless?” asked 
the old lady. 

They were together when the doctor arrived. 
He had received a second report from the labora- 
tory, and without doubt it was a severe case of 
diphtheria. The two women were silent, sobs 
preventing speech. During these moments they 
were absolutely one in their sorrow. All their 
petty rivalries disappeared in their common anxi- 
ety for the man whom they both loved. Follow- 
ing the doctor, with slow steps, they entered the 
sick-room. The patient looked vaguely about 
the room, and soon recognised the round hat, 
and dyed hair, and the sallow face with its jet 
black eyes. But he was too weak even to bear 
the pressure of Henriette's hand, and her kisses 
were only a burden. The presence of his grand- 
mother was to him a sign of near death, which 
now seemed desirable to him; so that he begged 
to be allowed to die, and felt no pity for the two 
poor broken hearts he was to leave behind. 


In Sickness and in Health 127 

There were three terrible days like this. Hen- 
riette became so changed as to be scarcely recog- 
nisable. Her hair hung carelessly about her 
face, which was pale from loss of sleep. Her 
large eyes burned, expressing so much suffering, 
that she inspired in others already the respect 
and sympathy given to widows. Madame Mar- 
cadieu had proposed to come and help her daughter, 
but Henriette had declined her aid as well as 
Madame Mansart’s. She stayed constantly by 
her husband's bedside, energetic and determined, 
attending faithfully to the gargling, and always 
present at the examinations of the throat. It 
seemed impossible for her frail body to endure all 
the strain. She nursed her husband with a devo- 
tion that was almost fanatical, in the belief that 
he was not going to recover, and that he might 
die insensible to all her love. Madame Mansart 
and Madame Marcadieu waited, hiding their 
tears, and only saying over and over again, ^‘Oh! 
our poor children! The poor children!” 

One evening in the twilight, the large square 
shoulders of Fabrezan appeared in the doorway. 
The valet de chambre had treated him like an 
old friend and brought him up-stairs. He saw 
the large bed, and the raised pillow upon which 
lay the restless head of Velines. The sick man’s 
face was pinched, pallid, and already looking almost 
like a death-mask. He saw Henriette, standing 
in her rumpled dressing-gown, her tired hands 
at her side, her eyes watching every movement 


128 


Love vs. Law 


of her husband ; Henriette was passionately, des- 
perately absorbed in nursing the man she loved. 
The white pearl-like curtains hung high in their 
grooves. Little coloured idyllic love scenes were 
frescoed about the doors. A warm delicately 
tinted carpet silenced the noise of footsteps. 
On the mantel stood an ornamental clock, deco- 
rated with little statues made in the form of 
Cupids, while the pendulum with its great needle 
turned slowly, the whole being made in the form 
of a lyre. 

Fabrezan-Castagnac stood near the mantel, 
amazed. What! Were these two beautiful 
children, who had seemed so supremely happy, 
to be soon overwhelmed with grief? 

“Oh, Monsieur Fabrezan!” cried Henriette, 
when she saw him. And, overcome with grief 
at what she believed to be a final separation, she 
came and held out her burning hand, saying, 
too low for Andre to hear, 

“You told me, the other day, not to make two 
parts of myself, but to give all to my husband. I 
assure you he has all of me now. Oh, if he dies, 
what will become of me?” 

“Why do you speak so despairingly? He is 
going to recover,” responded Fabrezan. 

The valet de chambre returned, carrying a 
card. Madame Marty had arrived, and must 
see the young wife on important business. 

“I know only one thing of any importance 
now, ” said the young woman in a whisper. 


In Sickness and in Health 


129 


At the lower end of the room, leaning against 
the curves of the mantel, Fabrezan recognised 
Madame Mansart, looking very small and old, 
standing like a peasant, with her hands crossed. 
She said nothing. She had her eyes fastened on 
Velines, all her pride gone; she asked only to be 
allowed to stay silently in the room, and see her 
grandson draw his last breath. She listened 
closely to the breathing of the sick man, waiting 
with dread to hear it stop. 

“Will Madame receive the lady?’’ repeated the 
valet de chambre, 

“Say that I receive no one, that I do not leave 
this room.” 

“This lady wishes only one word with 
Madame,” said the poor valet, who did not 
yet understand the situation. 

“No one!” answered Henriette, nervously. 
“I receive no one!” Then turning towards 
Fabrezan, “Everything in life has vanished for 
me; my profession no longer exists. The Palais! 
I would consent never to see it again if at this 
price I could keep Andre. ” 

Soon she left the President of the Bar quickly; 
the hour for painting the tonsils had come. She 
returned to the bed, prepared the brushes, wet 
the cotton with the acid, and unaided, putting 
her arms around Andre, she lifted him ; and, almost 
maternally, with great tenderness, forgetting who 
listened, she called him pet names, and she even 
kissed his lips as if eager to share his fatal disease. 


130 


Love vs. Law 


“I will return to-morrow/^ said Fabrezan. 
And he left the house, fearful lest he should lose 
his self-control. What he had seen had touched 
him deeply. “Oh, the strength of the love of these 
women!” he said, thinking with admiration of 
Henriette. “Nothing can change their wonderful 
nature. They may teach, or write, or argue, or 
philosophise, but the same human nature is 
there. They give themselves so gladly, and the 
greater they are, the greater is their gift.” 

He reproached himself for having doubted that 
Henriette could make Andre happy. “Ah, poor 
Velines, if he could only live, what a wife he 
would have!” 

As soon as the news of the illness had spread 
through the Palais, and the dreaded name of 
diphtheria was heard, after the end of the session, 
between four and six o’clock, a stream of people 
hurried to the Place Dauphine, to make inquiries 
for Andre. Louise Pernette arrived first, her 
eyes wet with tears, full of compassion and 
sympathy. Maurice Servais came twice a day, 
profoundly anxious, with that sincerity of friend- 
ship which is only found in the young. The 
secretary of Temisien came also daily, and 
Madame Martinal also, but the very word 
diphtheria made her tremble for her own dear ones, 
and she went no further than the Concierge, 
fearing to touch even the walls of the house, 
living her own grief over again in this house of 
suffering. Monsieur and Madame Clementin 


In Sickness and in Health 131 


came, always obsequious; Blondel or his secretary 
also came ; then Lecellier, politic ever, and expressing 
sympathy for everybody. Mademoiselle Angely, on 
her return from her colony of little criminals, hur- 
ried to the Place Dauphine; and Madame Surgeres, 
the strong-minded feministe, who always had advice 
to offer, and who implored her unhappy sister 
to be strong and brave, to bear all for the cause. 
Isabelle Geronce wrote a perfumed note, and all 
the young law-students rang the door-bell to 
inquire for Monsieur Velines. 

On the evening of the eighth day, there was an 
improvement in the condition of the sick man. 
The following day it continued. The world 
of the Palais had only been superficially moved 
by the apparent approach of death, and it now 
underwent a reaction. On the following Satur- 
day, in a Conference, some ridiculed Velines, his 
heavy style, his dull manner of pleading, his wife, 
and even his father-in-law; who in his position of 
Magistrate was also criticised. 

During his slow convalescence, Velines was 
almost forgotten. The Palais, with its thousand 
wheels, continued to perform its usual functions. 
From the Cour de Mai, in the Place Dauphine, 
to the criminal court in the civil tribunal, in all 
the different Chambers, cases were daily argued. 
Two lawyers alone were absent. Few missed 
them. Fabrezan, always overworked, went oc- 
casionally to shake hands with Andre during 
the two hours’ recess. He rejoiced in Henriette’s 


132 


Love vs Law 


happiness and the growing strength of Velines. 
All her cases had been postponed, and the smaller 
ones given to Maurice Servais; the larger ones 
had to wait. Madame Marty hoped that in this 
way she would certainly have her child with her 
through the vacation and until the autumn. 

The grandmother had returned to Rouen, in 
love with her grandson’s wife. Both believed 
that they were warmly attached to each other. 
Henriette had become simply a little woman, 
without professional cares. Her heart sang with 
joy at having her dear husband alive again. 
The President of the Bar could not praise her 
earnestly enough. She was wonderful in her 
self-sacrifice, always at the side of Velines, cheering 
and comforting him. At times her husband was 
deeply depressed. This terrible illness had af- 
fected his vocal cords. Would he ever find his 
voice again? Henriette, herself anxious, passed 
her time in encouraging him, making all sorts of 
plans. They would remove him to some baths — 
to Uriage; he would improve there, and she would 
take care of him so well. And she made him try 
his voice before Fabrezan, asking him to see if it 
had not improved. 

'‘Oh, this woman!” exclaimed Fabrezan: “Only 
two months ago she was telling me of her enthu- 
siasm for law. ‘My profession,’ she said; ‘you 
have no idea how absorbed I am in it. I have 
preserved my own personality in my marriage, 
I shall never lose it.’ Now, in this crisis of 


In Sickness and in Health 133 


anxiety, I find her the most devoted of wives. 
She has saved her husband from the grave, her 
personal ambition has gone, she has almost per- 
formed a miracle by her love. There will be no 
more arguing cases, no more talk of her ‘per- 
sonality.’ Her husband has absorbed her wholly. 
And the strange thing is that the little woman 
rejoices. She has saved her husband and has let 
the Palais go. Ah, the world has not changed. 
In love women find their only true happiness.” 

Little by little, warm weather arrived. Velines’s 
strength did not return quickly, but he bore 
fairly well his confinement to the house, where the 
presence of his beloved wife was a continual joy 
to him. He did not wish her to go out of his 
sight, and seemed to have a childish fear that 
if she left him, for even a few moments, she would 
never return. They read novels together. Some- 
times they read during whole afternoons, — those 
sultry afternoons in June and July when the skies 
in Paris are leaden and when the distant sound 
of the city noises seems like thunder. The little 
white salon was silent, peaceful as a chapel; even 
the reflections of the crystal ornaments were 
motionless. The heavy hangings had now been 
changed for flowered chintz. The voice of Hen- 
riette, reading aloud, soothed the young man. 
This was one of the most perfect periods of their 
married life. 

At times, when evening came, Henriette leaned 
out of the window. At her feet lay the little 


134 


Love vs. Law 


triangle of the Place Dauphine. She recalled 
that at the end of this island, in the time of St. 
Louis, there were royal gardens, aviaries, green 
woods, and a pretty little brook. Then she thought 
of the pretty Queen Marguerite, as she took her 
walks with that air of melancholy which so w^ell 
fitted her, being the wife of a saintly king. Again 
she looked to the right, seeking the old palace 
where the marriage had taken place. The pretty 
queen had her secret apartments to which 
she had given such poetic names, “The Rose 
Room,” “The Lily Room.” “What was this 
lily room?” And Henriette fancied it panelled 
in marble, hung with snow-white damask, and 
with white lilies painted on the walls and wreaths 
of white roses on the floor. And the pretty queen 
resting in this pure chamber, to await the visit 
of her saintly husband. 

Thus dreaming, Henriette sat silently by the 
window. How old and dignified the Palais was! 
What tender memories slumbered there! And 
she had a feeling of pride at the thought that she 
bore a part in its life to-day. 

“What are you doing, dearest?” Andre asked. 

“Nothing at all,” replied she. 

By turning her head a little she could see, 
below, the wide white staircase; and her eager 
spirit carried her up the long steps. From her 
window she saw but one of the two stone lions, 
successors to the gold lion which stood in the 
great assembly-room of the Parliament and of 


In Sickness and in Health 135 


which the old chronicle said: ‘‘The head lowered, 
the tail between the legs, it seemed intended to 
teach that whoever entered here must be willing 
to humiliate himself.” She recalled also the 
succeeding sentence, “The lions on the throne 
of Solomon signified the same thing.” 

Often, in the forenoon, the young wife waited 
at this window. The sun fiooded the steps, the 
details of the lion were more distinct, and the long 
procession of distinguished men, — magistrates, 
lawyers, solicitors, record clerks, clients, — all with 
portfolios under their arms, was seen mount- 
ing the steps and hastening to the court 
rooms. 

The valet looked for Madame, to announce the 
late breakfast, and Velines approached and em- 
braced his wife joyously, unconscious of the slight 
melancholy upon her pale face. 

They were to start for some baths the last of 
August. Until then Velines was told to work 
very little, to rest, and take much nourishment. 
He was still anxious about his voice, constantly 
consulting specialists and questioning Henriette. 
He was forbidden to work and receive any clients, 
but he was eager to begin on the important cases 
which concerned the Continental Bank scandal. 
For this case he wished to have all his strength, 
and to recover the use of his voice, of which 
he was very proud. It was a powerful masculine 
voice which had never failed him even at the end 
of a long argument. While waiting, his office 


136 


Love vs. Law 


had remained closed, and he resisted the temp- 
tation to study his cases. 

Henriette, thus far, had found no time to enter 
her study, although all her notes for the Marty 
trial were there and her plea for the defence. 
Often she opened the door of her’ study with a 
sigh. 

At night she sometimes dreamed of the eighth 
chamber, and of the smaller court where she had 
heard such complicated cases argued. She longed 
for her lawyer-friends, for the excitement of the 
Pas Perdus, for her yoimg clients in the Petite 
Roquette, even for her robe and toque, which 
had not been worn for so many weeks. 

One day when Velines was seated, after break- 
fast, taking a nap, Henriette could not restrain 
herself longer; and, hastily taking her hat and 
gloves, she left the house in her morning dress, 
telling the maid that she would return in a quarter 
of an hour. She felt all the excitement of a 
devotee who, after a long absence, sees again the 
sacred temple. The Palais de Justice hypnotised 
her, magnetised her. She returned to it as if 
drawn by an uncontrollable instinct, and imable 
to resist the power of her great compelling desire 
to enter this wonderful building again. Hastily 
passing the long rows of houses which intervened, 
she entered the Rue de Harlay. 

When close to the Palais she hesitated, almost 
dreading to enter its gateway. The pleasure 
seemed almost too keen; and she crossed towards 


In Sickness and in Health 


137 


the Quai de THorloge. She pretended, even to 
herself, that she wished to look at the wonderful 
doors of the Conciergerie, which were pure 
Gothic. She walked slowly along the river, and, 
like a tourist looked back at the old original 
Palais. There first had been held the royal festi- 
vals; there was the Guild House of the Emperors, 
who were proud of the magnificent fagade, with 
its fifty-three painted windows, its huge salon, 
the ceiling decorated in blue and gold, while each 
pillar supported the statue of a king. The whole 
history of France could be read in this monument ; 
and memories of this past history crowded into 
the imagination of Henriette. There was the 
legend of the master of the H6tel of Hugh Capet, 
who became violently insane because he had 
touched with his staff the relics of Saint Magloire, 
exposed in the great salon. There had lived 
King Robert, who was cured of blindness on 
Easter day, simply by sprinkling his eyes with 
water, after having washed his hands. There 
lived Jean Sans Terre, the admirable leader of 
the people, of whom Saint Louis has left so many 
mystical and imperishable souvenirs. Mar- 
guerite of France had died here of the plague. 
The wonderful salon, which seemed truly to 
live through one century after another, had been 
a theatre for European politics. Here Francis 
the First received the Ultimatum of Charles the 
Fifth. The marvellous varied life of this great 
city was represented in the Palais. Parisian 


138 


Love vs. Law 


commerce sheltered itself in these ancient stalls 
just outside the Palais. Among the trifles ex- 
posed there for sale were embroideries, baubles 
of all sorts, with which the beautiful ladies of the 
Fronde idly played; while behind the walls was 
developed that mighty monster — the Parliament 
of Paris. 

Henriette continued with excitement her his- 
torical reverie. The long fagade with its regular 
windows filled the space, and the Tower of 
Caesar, a relic of the Middle Ages, with its battle- 
ments and its spikes like pepper-boxes, broke 
the monotony; this was now the Court of Appeals. 
At last the Gothic door of the Conciergerie ap- 
peared, black, entrenched between the huge towers 
which flanked it on the right and left ; these massive 
towers looked as if built to withstand a siege; 
their narrow casement windows were almost 
murderous ; the whole aspect of these towers 
suggested a jail — they were the towers of Bon-Bec 
and of Argent, old torture chambers. 

She saw, near her, at the comer near the 
monument, the graceful turret ornamenting the 
clock-tower, its porch with the Greek portico 
and cold bare columns, its mythological statue, 
and its heavy dome. Rising far above all, 
delicate, lace-like, almost fairy like, seen against 
the blue of the heavens, Sainte Chapelle appeared 
like a chapel of dreams. Its many pinnacles 
erected on either side of the roof increased its 
circumference. Gargoyles pushed their audacious 


In Sickness and in Health 139 

way out from the roof, which sloped daringly, 
and was ornamented with gold filagree. The 
slender central spire looked almost like the 
centre of a fountain, and it blended together all 
the graceful minarets of the chapel. The deserted 
foot-path turned. She found herself mingling 
in the crowd which, at this hour, was always seen 
on the boulevard near the Palais. There was a 
confusion of tramway cars, cabs, and automo- 
biles. She drew near the iron door of the Cour 
de Mai, and the iron and gold shields sparkled 
in the sunlight of noonday. 

Then the whole building was revealed to her 
in all its splendour, severe, dignified, noble, in 
its perfect proportions. The right wing was 
occupied by the Civil Court, and with its high 
windows cut out of black stone was thrown into 
shadow by the crude light of noon. It was 
really the soul of the Palais, however, with its 
magnificent stairway. Thus she gazed upon 
the exquisite Sainte Chapelle, a marvel of delicate 
architecture, standing without a support, rising 
apparently out of mystery, and as if sustained 
by invisible wings. 

Henriette felt her heart beat fast. She hesitated 
a moment, then the attraction was too strong; 
she crossed the court, ascended the stairway, 
and went into the Palais de Justice. There was 
still a crowd in the Salle des Pas Perdus. She 
pushed aside one of the doors, determined not 
to delay, only to breathe again the atmosphere 


140 


Love vs. Law 


of the Palais, — that atmosphere which she missed 
so much from her present life. 

After her long three months of seclusion, the con- 
fusion of this crowd of people almost made her 
dizzy. She saw only the shining white collar 
bands among the black robes, and heard the 
general movement of those coming and going; 
it seemed almost rhythmical and filled the large 
room. 

“Ah, dear friend here you are at last!’' ex- 
claimed a sweet voice near her. “How is your 
husband?” 

And she recognised Madame Martinal, who 
came up in her lawyer’s gown to make her welcome. 

“Oh, I only came in as I passed by, to exchange 
greetings with a few friends. What is new in the 
Palais?” 

“There are the usual disputes. But come and 
sit here, ” said the widow, pulling her towards the 
row of benches against the walls. Henriette 
began to feel interested. She could not resist 
the temptation to stay, and Madame Martinal 
began: “There is first the history of the Clemen- 
tins. Those poor people have many trials. In 
searching through Menilmontant the police have 
found an office, the veritable office where Cle- 
mentin received the Apaches, and in which we 
only half believed. Well, he did have an office 
there, and had even formed a kind of company — 
an insurance company. He was paid a small 
sum regularly on the understanding that if any 


In Sickness and in Health 141 

of those thieves were caught he would defend 
them, without a fee, in his best manner. You 
understand, — it was truly a guarantee against 
the consequences of theft. He always had clients. 
His specialty was to prove an alibi. You can 
understand how he was able to secure substitutes 
and witnesses for everything, and whether the 
case was argued or not he always had the 
same fee.” 

The quiet little woman told the story of this 
scandal without apparent emotion; but Henriette, 
indignant, grew white with anger. '‘What did 
Fabrezan say when he heard this?” 

“Naturally he did not approve, and the council 
of the Bar Association was called, day before 
yesterday. No one has heard the result, but 
we think Clementin will be dismissed from the 
Bar.” 

“I certainly hope so,” said Henriette. 

But the young widow, playing with the folds 
of her gown, suggested, “Ah, after all, we must 
live. It is necessary, if you have not extraor- 
dinary ability, to be sharp in your practice in 
order to succeed. I grant that this plan of the 
wretched Clementin was not ideal, but between 
ourselves, my dear, lawyers are obliged to do many 
unscrupulous things, even if they do not join 
forces with the outcasts of society. Oh, I know 
the noble sentiments of the President in his 
opening address — on the honour of our profession 
and the generosity of its methods and on the 


142 


Love vs. Law 


passion for justice — all this sounded well, my 
dear, but there is in our profession as well as in 
others the need of earning bread and butter. Do 
we really desire the triumph of justice, or is it 
the success of our client? Do we really try to 
enlighten the Court, or to blind it? This same 
Clementin, at whom we are to-day all ready to 
throw stones, because he has been discovered 
hand and glove with the lower strata of society, 
I saw last week presenting a case before the 
Court in what was considered a perfectly honoura- 
ble way. What was the case? An old affair of one 
of the creditors of Madame Gevigne, whom we 
all know. My dear, the real question was so 
simple that one of my children could have easily 
understood it. The lady sued for six thousand 
francs, but the whole of the debt had been trans- 
ferred to a bankrupt carriage-company, and those 
creditors claimed the money. I saw Clementin, 
with his sophistries, argue during one hour on 
this question before the President, bewildering 
all of us with his legal complications, and trying 
to blind the Court to the real question at issue. 
Everybody said that he made a powerful argu- 
ment. No one dreamed of criticising his efforts 
to blind the Court to the real facts of the case. 
Even our President Fabrezan praised his know- 
ledge of law, and as you know, he won his case. 

Henriette remained silent. She had not the 
patient scepticism of her friend. “But I believe 
in my cases,” she said, finally. 


In Sickness and in Health 


143 


^*You say this because you have a noble spirit, 
my dear. Alas, I could not say it. I must prac- 
tise my profession as I can, as most people do, 
and place a high partition between my conscience 
and my brain. Wait, look at that young woman, 
walking up the steps of the square gallery, beside 
that man! She is Madame Mauvert, the wife 
of an honest merchant. She has deserted her 
husband and her four children, and has run away 
with Georges Sylvere, the young portrait painter. 
Sylvere has many friends in the Palais, and the 
woman wants to return to her place in society 
by procuring a divorce. You should see the 
lawyers surrounding them, like beasts of prey! 
I have heard that some of the young lawyers 
have even sent their wives to visit that scandalous 
household in the hope of getting the case. What 
do you think, dear friend, of a woman who has 
abandoned her four little girls and her excellent 
husband? Above all, what do you think of 
lawyers who crawl on their hands and knees 
before these people in order to get the case? 
For my part, I think that Madame Mauvert 
should be publicly whipped ; however, if she 
would only give me her case, I would present 
her excuses before the Bar.’* 

She laughed a sad little laugh, submitting 
with her customary sweetness to an ugly world 
which she could not hope to change. 

But the idealistic Henriette looked disturbed. 
She did not reply, but followed with her eyes the 


144 


Love vs. Law 


handsome silhouette of the woman who disap- 
peared at the entrance of the square gallery. 
Finally she said: “My husband has often spoken 
of Sylvere as a good fellow. He wanted to have 
him paint my portrait.” 

Suddenly she trembled. She saw Fabrezan 
in company with Alembert. She scarcely recog- 
nised the brilliant engineer in this weary looking, 
grey-haired man, who seemed bowed with grief. 
The President had taken his arm in a fatherly 
fashion; Alembert seemed absolutely discouraged. 
Henriette knew well that they were discussing 
the boy. Without hearing one word, she yet 
imagined the father’s lamentations, and in her 
womanly sensibility she had a profound pity 
for this light and superficial young man, who had 
already been so severely punished for his sin. 
For the first time a slight doubt of the absolute 
justice of her cause cast its shadow over her legal 
soul. She turned again to Martinal as if asking 
her to dispel it. 

But the widow was already busy with other 
things. She was murmuring, “Ah, poor Louise 
Pemette!” 

“Why ‘poor Louise’?” asked Henriette. 

“My dear, look at Isabelle Geronce, who is 
leaning against the door!” 

The Salle des Pas Perdus was filled with people 
at this time, and the procession of lawyers in their 
silk gowns was so large that Henriette had diffi- 
culty in discovering Isabelle, who was busily 


In Sickness and in Health 145 


engaged in following a dialogue between Blondel 
and Lamblin who were opposed to each other in 
a civil case, and whose loud voices could occa- 
sionally be heard above the crowd. 

When she at last discovered Isabelle, the pro- 
fessional beauty of the Bar, she saw that she had 
with her Maurice Servais, who listened to her 
almost confidingly, in his gentle childlike manner. 
Then Madame Martinal told her that Louise’s 
lover seemed for the moment to have caught the 
fancy of the handsome Isabelle. She openly 
showed her interest in him, was present whenever 
he pleaded, complimented him ostentatiously, 
followed him through the hallways, joked him, 
and almost took possession of him bodily. 

Henriette looked again at her; with her black 
gown folded over she looked almost like a classic 
statue. The cap surmounted her black hair, and 
her fine profile and skilfully powdered cheeks 
made her magnificent. Conscious of her great 
beauty, which brought her the admiration of 
the world, she yet also wished to fascinate the 
honest lover of the gentle Louise. 

^‘Oh, the wicked Geronce!” cried Henriette, 
shrugging her shoulders. ‘‘But where is Louise?” 

“She is killing herself with work. She does 
not leave the court house except to bury herself 
in her little room in the Rue de Notre Dame. 
She longs to become rich in order to purchase 
her happiness. I believe that she defends Madame 
Leroy-Mathalin next week. It is her first serious 


10 


146 


Love vs. Law 


case. In spite of this she is not ignorant of the 
flirtation; she is very dignifled, however, though 
she is not blind.” 

This story saddened Henriette, and she turned 
away only to And another sorrow in the divorce 
case now being discussed by Fabrezan. Then 
Alembert departed, and the President talked with 
a woman whom Henriette did not know. This 
was Madame Faustin, the young woman deserted 
by her husband, whose visit the President had 
received in the month of March. Notwithstand- 
ing his advice the wretched woman had not in- 
mediately gone to law to obtain alimony from 
the father of her child. Continually putting off 
this step, she had slowly used up all her money, 
and now possessed only one hundred francs. 
She had even been trying to earn a few francs, 
ruining her eyes, by crocheting lace for under- 
clothing, which she sold for only a few sous at a 
small shop on the Rue Saint Honore. Now the 
moment had come when she found herself, in 
spite of rigid economies, heavily in debt, and she 
at last wished to put her case in the hands of a 
lawyer. Fabrezan severely reproached her for 
this long delay, and now there would be further 
delays and months of waiting before the trial, 
he told her. 

As she sought to excuse herself by saying that 
she had been trying to earn some money, Fabre- 
zan suddenly perceived Madame Martinal beside 
Henriette on the bench. This at once gave him 


In Sickness and in Health 147 

a new idea; and, taking Madame Faustin with 
him, he came toward the two friends, pushing 
up his huge sleeves, his great shoes making a 
shuffling soimd on the floor. The woman beside 
him, frail and delicate-looking, with blue eyes 
and long eyelashes, followed silently. 

First he asked about Velines’s health and for the 
little Martinal family ; then he introduced Madame 
Faustin and told her story. His analytical mind 
at once saw the resemblance between these two 
women, so alike and yet so different, both left 
to fight the battle of life alone, and both deprived 
of masculine aid, both having the responsibility 
of children, but one having triumphantly suc- 
ceeded by her own efforts in building a new home, 
while the other, wrecked in her married life and 
incapable of supporting herself, had to extend 
her hand and ask aid of the man she despised. 

‘‘You ought to understand each other,” said 
Fabrezan, after Henriette had discreetly with- 
drawn. “Your circumstances have been much 
alike. Madame Martinal will give you the 
best legal advice in her power, and will under- 
stand you better than can a man. You will 
find in her more than a counsellor — a friend. ” 

The two women looked at each other a moment. 
Their sad eyes, which had wept so many tears, 
revealed something of their past. They were at 
first silent, then they clasped each other’s hands 
and Madame Martinal at last said, “Tell me all!” 
Fabrezan looked at them, smiling. They made 


148 


Love vs. Law 


a striking contrast, and he was pleased with him- 
self for having brought them together; after nib- 
bling a final sugar plum, he left them, to rejoin 
Henriette, asking, *‘My little lady, do you know 
what I am thinking of? I think that in certain 
legal cases, where for instance it is necessary 
to console and encourage poor young women, you 
being yourself a woman can give us men points.’* 

“Do I actually hear you say that. Monsieur 
Fabrezan!” cried Henriette in delight. 

In the Galerie Due they separated; he went 
on to his office, and there met the secretary of 
the Bar; while she hurried to return home, her 
mind on her husband. 

Through the long cloister-like corridor appeared 
a graceful young girl, walking so lightly that her 
footsteps could hardly be heard on the flagstones. 
Heavy legal robes draped her slender figure, but 
her face was thin and pale, and her lips looked 
anaemic. It was Louise Pernette, whom Hen- 
riette had not seen for some time. The two 
women exchanged cordial greetings. 

“Yes,” explained Louise, “I have not been 
very well this summer. The heat always takes 
my strength, and I have worked hard. It is 
difficult to make both ends meet. I have an im- 
portant case next week and my client is very dull.” 

“Poor child! I wish you all success. You 
must have courage!” 

“Courage! Once I believed that I had a large 
supply, but I am afraid that it is almost gone.” 


In Sickness and in Health 


149 


She smiled, but so sadly, that Henriette’s 
heart was touched, and suddenly she recalled 
the picture of Isabelle Geronce, whom she had 
seen flirting with Maurice Servais, beside the door 
of the Referee Chamber. 

Maurice was young and becoming a little weary 
of this interminable engagement, while marriage 
seemed as uncertain as ever. Isabelle Geronce 
understood men and how to attract them, and 
he had succumbed to her flatteries. Fearing 
lest Louise should be troubled by seeing the two 
together, Henriette kept her at her side for som.e 
little time. 


Andre, a little surprised at his wife’s unexpected 
absence, was waiting for her at the window of 
the little white salon. She returned with rosy 
cheeks, much excited, and thoroughly under the 
spell of the Palais de Justice. She could not 
conceal her re-awakened interest in her profession, 
although she caressed her husband affectionately 
and asked forgiveness for her long absence. 

Velines looked at her with a sudden melan- 
choly. After teasing her a little, he said, ‘‘My 
poor little one, I am to blame.” She looked 
astonished, questioning him with bright, widely 
open, eyes. “Yes,” he continued, “I have been 
selfish, and kept you here four long months, 
occupied with my poor sick body, — a prisoner. 


Love vs. Law 


150 

I am an egotist. It was so delightful to have you 
with me constantly, to have your dear hand 
support me as I gained my strength, that I forgot 
your personal tastes, your love for your profession, 
your happiness. You have missed the Palais de 
Justice! You have suffered without telling me. 
You ought to have spoken, Henriette. I might 
easily have remained alone while you went on 
with your work. I did not think of it. ” 

“Oh, no!” responded she, throwing her arms 
around his neck. “Am I ever unhappy when I 
am near you? Do you ever weary me? The 
weeks of your convalescence have been among 
the happiest of my life. Do you think I do not 
love you?” 

He took her in his arms and held her a long 
time, his tall figure towering above her; and, 
gazing at her with an expression of infinite love, he 
said, “My dear little girl, you must go back to 
the Palais to-morrow, and, after that, every day.” 


CHAPTER VI 


A PERILOUS VICTORY 



'HE case of Alembert against Marty came 


1 before the Supreme Court on Monday Oc- 
tober 27th. 

It attracted the attention of the whole court 
house. The case, small in itself, assumed im- 
portance from the rank of the contestants, who 
belonged to the highest Parisian bourgeois so- 
ciety. Interest in the case arose also from the 
striking contrast in the lawyers, — the old Master 
of the Bar and the pretty young woman who had 
the audacity to oppose him. At early mom 
the seats were filled with handsomely dressed 
women. They were friends of Madame Marty, 
well known personalities in the Feministe party, 
to whom the trial meant the triumph of their 
own ideas, and who were eager to see under 
these novel circumstances a woman trying an 
important case before the Bar. 

The weather was fine. The autumn sun il- 
luminated the dark hall, which resembled a 
ballroom, with its high ceiling, while its sombre 
woodwork and its green hangings accentuated 
the brilliancy of the gowns in the audience. 


152 


Love vs. Law 


This was the great Parliament Room, where the 
Kings of France had held their State trials; and, 
with its glittering ceiling, its shining pendant- 
lamps, exquisitely chased, resembling beautiful 
jewellery, was sometimes called the gold chamber. 
It suggested the time of the yoimg Louis XIV, 
who came in there booted and spurred for the 
hunt, whip in hand, rudely haranguing his coun- 
sellors, both legal and clerical. It was in the 
left comer, which to-day opens into the conference 
rooms, that the old prints show Louis enthroned 
in great pomp, with adoring women, of the Pom- 
padour type, sitting at his feet. At present, the 
semicircle of the tribunal occupies half of the 
first large room. The pictures have been taken 
from the walls. The bands of gold on the ceiling 
enclose clusters of large stars. The three win- 
dows open into the concierge’s coiurt, and the 
whole atmosphere is full of famous historical 
associations. 

At one end of the Audience Chamber, a tedious 
case was being tried against a gas company. 
Suddenly a stir was felt through the audience. 
The news had spread that Alembert had arrived. 
Heads turned towards the door, and whispering 
became so loud that the President, a young man 
with a blond beard, had to command silence. 
But the gossips were mistaken. 

Many journalists stood at the back of the room, 
and it was one of these, whose slender figure and 
mass of hair had carried a resemblance to the 


A Perilous Victory 


153 


engineer. People were continually arriving, and 
there was soon a great crowd in the places reserved 
for the public. Women crept in by the side 
galleries, and even tried to find seats near the 
judges."? 

At half -past twelve, an old lawyer carrying his 
portfolio came in, pushing aside the crowd to make 
a passage. He was tall and strongly built, with 
large white whiskers framing his delicate face. 
It was Fabrezan. The women recognised him 
and called him by name. There was a rustling 
in the audience. He sat down heavily, immedi- 
ately behind the lawyer who was then pleading. 
Every eye fastened on him. Soon afterwards 
there arrived a woman lawyer, who some in the 
audience thought to be Madame Velines. But 
they were deceived. This woman never tried 
cases, but came to the Palais only when some- 
thing unusual occurred. She was Madame 
Debreynes, a prominent society woman, who 
had studied law and had actually been admitted 
to the Bar, for the pleasure of wearing her robes 
in public and haviag her picture in all the 
journals, and calling Temisien “My dear col- 
league!” She stiU enjoyed the slight move- 
ment of curiosity which manifested itself in an 
audience when, with the grace of a Parisian, bare- 
headed, toque in hand, she walked slowly in, 
taking a seat among the members of the Bar. 

Again the door opened, and there was a slight 
rustle of admiration. It was Maurice Servais, 


154 


Love vs. Law 


who passed through the crowd in front of Isabelle 
Geronce; and this beautiful woman, dressed in 
black satin, walked gracefully behind him, looking 
to the right and left, greeting one friend with 
her hand, smiling at another, making a brilliant 
picture in this rather solemn room, where stern 
justice permeated the very atmosphere. 

Soon more lawyers arrived. Mademoiselle An- 
gely in violet, followed by Jeanne de Louvrol 
and Marie Morvan : they were seated on the bench 
set apart for students. Then Madame Clementin 
appeared; since her husband had been expelled 
from the Bar, he had gone into business. Then 
came Madame Martinal breathing rapidly as 
if she had hurried. On each side of the Bar, a 
bench was filled and some young lawyers even 
gave up their places to the ladies. Behind the 
clerk, the chairs of the stenographers were seen. 
Before the Bar, the attorney for the gas company 
still went on with his wearisome speech. The 
little Gothic monument on the timepiece showed 
that it was one o’clock. The beating of a drum 
was heard, and a group of lawyers came in to- 
gether almost imnoticed. Velines was among 
them; and, near him, slight, delicate, very pale, 
Henriette walked across the court room. 

When Velines saw the crowded hall, the benches 
full of society women, and all the most eminent 
lawyers in Paris present, it seemed to him that 
it was like a theatrical performance, and that 
his wife was to take the leading part. Pie mis- 


A Perilous Victory 


155 


trusted Henriette, with her delicate feminine 
voice, and her quick wit which often evaded the 
main issue of an argument. So far she had only- 
defended minors or juvenile criminals; her argu- 
ments had seemed to him trivial, written to 
impress the audience, but likely to have no weight 
before a tribtmal which had already acquainted 
itself with the facts. And for her to attempt 
to try such a complicated case, here before this 
huge audience, and against the Dean of the Bar — • 
what audacity! 

Then he felt qualms of remorse. Should he 
not have had more authority over his wife and 
insisted upon her giving him a plan of her argu- 
ment? She might even have elaborated the case 
under his direction. But since their marriage he 
had respected Henriette’s independence and had 
conceded to her the right to work alone. What 
kind of husband would he have seemed, in the 
eyes of his exceptional and spirited wife, if he had 
made himself her master and tried to rule her 
intellectual life? Under the noble forehead of his 
beloved wife and comrade there was an inde- 
pendent spirit and a certain reserve which he had 
never penetrated. Loving her as intensely as he 
did, he had sometimes regretted that she did not 
give him her whole self. Perhaps now she would 
regret her reserve about her work? He was 
afraid she would be unable to hold her own to-day 
at the Bar. Yet since their return from Uriage 
in September she had worked as hard as any man, 


156 


Love vs. Lav/ 


Spending her evenings writing and re-writing 
many times her argument, always secretly fearing 
that her husband would desire to share in her 
work. If, reflected Velines, I had only been free 
to direct her and show her how to arrange her 
argument! Then he thought of a magniflcent 
defence which might have been made in this case. 

^‘To-day we all have to stand,’’ laughed Ser- 
vais, showing the long line of lawyers behind the 
benches placed for the students. 

‘‘Yes,” said Velines, forcing himself to reply, 
“Place aux Femmes!” 

Behind the benches of the students a dozen 
lawyers were gathered together representing the 
younger members of the Bar. Andre looked at 
his wife, who was arranging the parts of her brief 
with care. She seemed so white and nervous that 
he pitied her, now recollecting that before they 
had left home she had thrown herself into his 
arms. She seemed so tired, and he had thought 
her not well for several weeks, although she would 
not say that she was ill. 

Mademoiselle Angely returned just then asking, 
“Is not Louise Pemette here?” 

She was the only one of the women members 
of the Bar missing. Maurice Servais blushed. 
The beautiful profile of Isabelle Geronce was 
turned towards him. People said scandalous 
things about their friendship. 

At this moment the lawyer defending the gas 
company sat down, and the voice of the President 


A Perilous Victory 


157 


was raised. The case was still unfinished, the 
judgment postponed until the eighth, and then the 
clerk called out : 

‘‘Case of Alembert-Marty — ^regarding the dis- 
position of the boy!” 

A murmur of satisfaction was heard in the 
audience. Two or three lawyers left the room. 
Henriette trembled and laid her portfolio open 
before her. The President said, “Monsieur 
Fabrezan-Castagnac, you are to open the case.” 

Immediately the Chief of the Bar was on his 
feet. Leaning against the opposite wall Velines 
saw his massive head and his huge figure clearly 
defined against the white light of the last window. 
There was a long silence. The sonorous voice 
of the Master now made itself heard throughout 
the assembly. Those seated in the farthest 
comer of the hall could hear every syllable that 
he uttered. The case was described in a few sen- 
tences. The first opinion of the Court after the 
divorce had been declared had given to the mother 
the minor children; to-day the father claimed his 
son in order to direct his studies and educate him. 

When Fabrezan argued a case, the Court 
listened with pleasure. His arguments were 
always effective. His large figure seemed to add 
weight to them. He smiled as he spoke, breaking 
up his sentences to avoid monotony. He sur- 
prised his hearers by beginning his argument with 
praise of Madame Marty. Fie might have been 
thought to be the lawyer for the defence. He 


158 


Love vs. Law 


described her with eloquence, as bearing herself 
nobly, and as being as austere and dignified as 
though she were a widow instead of a divorcee. 
Then he praised her maternal love, which lavished 
itself so generously on her children. He even 
denounced the inhumanity which would deprive 
this stricken creature, in her loneliness, of her 
last happiness. “But tell me, gentlemen,” he 
said, “if Madame Marty has not deliberately 
chosen this loneliness, even insisted upon breaking 
the bonds with her husband, bonds which he has 
always wished to renew.” 

After this he had an easy task. In his opening 
he had spoken very quietly without apparent 
effort. Now he left the Bar, walked toward the 
audience, on the blue carpet, as far even as the 
Pretorium. Sure of himself he yet knew how 
to elaborate all his most effective points. He 
seemed even to play with his words and make 
them bring out his great knowledge of law. “Oh 
no, we cannot pity the fate of a divorcee who has 
herself insisted on a divorce. And why has she 
done this?” Then he described the first trial, 
and endeavoured to show the severity of the wife. 
He went close to the judges and spoke in a light 
mimicking voice, which was one of his mannerisms. 
Then in a louder voice he could be heard to say, 
“She was proud, my dear sirs, she was hard.” 

Then the father’s fault was recalled, but it was 
minimised and made to appear little more than 
the light escapade of an impulsive man. The 


A Perilous Victory 159 

whole room was silent. The old man’s genius was 
more evident in this sentimental trial than in trials 
concerning business affairs. 

When Velines turned his eyes over the audience, 
he saw this great mass of faces, and crowds of 
younger people standing by the farther door, all 
showing intense interest and even enthusiasm. 
Fabrezan was a great dramatic artist. He easily 
held the close attention of the audience. His per- 
sonality filled the room. And Henriette Velines, 
seated on the bench for the defence, seemed 
crushed, almost annihilated. Her husband 
glanced at her, and had a pang of violent regret. 
Surely he ought to be in her place, he a man, to 
reply to this celebrated lawyer. He thought of 
many counter-arguments to use. 

When the chief of the Bar spoke of his client 
he was full of sympathy. He described him as 
having a clear mind, trained judgment, and as 
being a man of science. The folly of a moment 
should never weigh against the habitual elevation 
of such a character. Then the huge sleeves of 
Fabrezan were raised, and he declared: ^‘This 
man has expiated his fault, in losing the companion 
whom he loved. The Court will not punish him 
further by taking away his child.” When he 
came to the most important point of his argument, 
he said: 

'‘We must now speak of the child, gentlemen, 
the child who ought to be your only concern, 
since it is his welfare which is most important. 


i6o 


Love vs. Law 


We should not punish an unhappy father for a 
trifling sin. Are we here to punish? No, let 
us speak of the child. ” Then he mentioned the 
almost feminine sensibility of the young growing 
lad, still only an impressionable boy waiting 
to be developed into a man. And the old lawyer, 
whose eloquence increased, who became touching, 
even pathetic, went forward a few steps nearer 
the audience, his sleeves falling in superb folds. 

“I call on all the fathers here present, to ask 
them if there does not come a time in a boy’s 
education when he needs, in order to develop 
masculine energy and force, something which 
his mother cannot give him?” Then he quoted 
this fact, that in a family, when the father dies, 
leaving a son, it is often said, ^‘It would have 
been better if it had been the mother who had 
gone.” 

Some of the large hats of the Feministes were 
now seen to stir, but most of the audience felt 
that Fabrezan-Castagnac had delivered one of 
the most remarkable speeches of his judicial life. 
His wonderful voice rang out through the room 
when he defended that paternity which created 
for the second time the child and gave him his 
own spirit. There was a general feeling of indig- 
nation when the President finally stopped the 
lawyer, saying briefly, “Master Fabrezan, have 
you not had time enough?” 

“I need only twenty minutes more, Mr. Presi- 
dent. ” 


A Perilous Victory i6i 

“The audience is adjourned/’ declared that 
official. 

The judges went out. There was much con- 
fusion. The effect of the repressed emotions 
was seen in the audience as the room emptied. 
Fabrezan had put his cap, full of pins, on his 
head, while his cheeks were full of sugar plums. 

Then Henriette Velines arose and approached 
the President. They exchanged a few words. 
She was pale, dehcate looking, and out of breath. 
While smiling, she wiped her forehead. At the 
same time Master Blondel, with his pointed nose 
seen between his great white whiskers, approached. 
There was a conference between the two old 
men. Then lawyers and more lawyers, crossed 
the court room, going into the Salle des Pas 
Perdus, and mixing with the crowd. 

There were some profound bows exchanged 
among the older men. Then they talked in small 
groups, and evidently Henriette was the subject 
of the conversation. She was deeply pitied, to 
have to come after such a powerful adversary 
and such a burst of eloquence. 

“Poor little Vehnes!” said Madame Martinal. 
“She was foolish to have taken such a case.” 

“Nonsense! If she wishes to win her case, she 
can,” declared Isabelle Geronce. “Castagnac’s 
arguments are as hollow as a gourd. ” Then she 
added, “Where is the little Velines?” 

All faces expressed sympathy when Henriette 
left the Salle des Pas Perdus with her husband. 


IX 


i 62 


Love vs. Law 


Together they went to the telegraph office. She 
was weighed down with her heavy robes, and she 
had to wait some time before sending an en- 
couraging message to Madame Marty. Andre, 
standing near her, did not speak. Leaning against 
the window which looked out on the Cour de 
Mai he tapped lightly on the panes. She almost 
felt like crying out, and asking him to take her 
away far from here. At last, in the telephone 
cabinet a voice was heard, and Velines outside 
distinguished the voice of his wife and her clearly 
cut phrases. “Is it you, Suzanne? Trust in 
me, I promise you all my strength. The other 
side has almost finished. In half an hour my 
turn will come. I assure you that all will go 
well, although Fabrezan has shown much talent. 
But I feel sure of myself — Yes, yes, I cannot 
explain — later you will know.’' 

At three o’clock the audience returned to their 
seats. The heat was overwhelming in the large 
court room. At the door two officers exacted cards. 
Five lamps, looking like five hats, lightly poised 
on little copper rods, hung at the end of the room. 
The place seemed changed, and looked like a chapel 
into which people had come voluntarily at the end 
of the autumn afternoon. In an atmosphere of 
pleased expectancy the audience was waiting for a 
new emotion. 

When every one was seated, Fabrezan took up 
again his argument, at the point where he had 
left it. He opened his portfolio, and obtained 


A Perilous Victory 


163 

praise for his learning by citing many cases. 
He read the physician’s certificate of health 
for young Alembert, and the letter of the child 
in which he had written, “I should much like to 
remain near papa. ” And the lawyer showed the 
malice of the mother in concealing the line with a 
blot of ink. 

Henriette, turning her profile, looked at her 
old Master, and her features showed her intense 
nervousness. At last came the peroration, uttered 
in the latest oratorical fashion, with a voice that 
became more and more breathless, as the effect 
which he desired to produce grew more intense. 

When Fabrezan ceased speaking, the silence 
was so intense that only the sound of the papers 
being put back in the portfolio could be heard in 
the room. On the back seats the women stood, 
in order to see the great lawyer. Their hats 
annoyed the audience, who called out, telling 
them to sit down. Then the golden hair of 
Henriette was seen, above her sloping shoulders, 
in her black gown. 

The last echo of the deep bass voice of the 
celebrated lawyer had scarcely died away, when 
the low words of this delicate-looking woman 
surprised the waiting audience. She spoke 
slowly, at first, as if seeking fit words; the size 
of the room almost drowned her voice; still a 
number of persons heard her opening, and they 
thought it ingenious. She said that on the 
modem race-tracks, when horses of different 


164 


Love vs. Law 


classes race together, it was customary to handi- 
cap them. Thus the weak and the slow animals 
were brought nearer together. To-day, only 
two cases were brought before the tribunal, but 
one had the great disadvantage of being defended 
only by a young lawyer. In the name of justice 
she begged the judges to equalise the chances of 
the two advocates, by not dwelling too much on 
the superb argument to which they had listened. 
This graceful manner of apologising for her au- 
dacity in speaking after the President charmed 
her listeners, and a wave of approval made itself 
felt in that part of the audience which had heard 
her opening speech. People crowded up from 
the back of the hall, the better to listen. One 
of the journalists, with a pencil in his hand, 
noisily pressed towards the front of the room. 
Two photographers at the right took instantaneous 
photographs of the young lawyer. The first 
caught her leaning on the bench, in a pretty 
feminine attitude, the second took her gesturing, 
with her little finger held up, and her pretty 
delicate profile turned toward the group of lawyers 
at the left. 

‘‘Very well done! Very well done!'* said one 
of this group, a man near Velines. This was 
Blondel, the pronounced enemy of all women 
who attempted to practise law in court. Velines 
himself felt that his wife was doing well. Still, 
a multitude of contradictory ideas and emotions 
were roused in him, as his wife continued her 


A Perilous Victory 165 

argument, astonishing him more and more with 
her power. 

She attacked Alembert severely, having care- 
fully prepared this part of the case; but, after 
hearing Fabrezan apologise for the sinful hus- 
band, she had felt all her woman-nature roused 
to revolt, and she spoke for a time as if inspired. 
Burning sentences impressed themselves on her 
listeners. She did not speak in Fabrezan ’s 
finished style; he was never so careful of the 
classical form of his sentences as when he seemed 
to be rising to a climax. Whereas the little 
Velines simply expressed her emotions. They 
spoke for her. 

^‘You call this husband innocent? Oh, if we 
permit a man to be unfaithful to his wife, and say 
that this is a trifling matter, what is to become of 
the hearts of women, of noble women, like my 
client, who give themselves wholly to marriage 
as to a religion? No, this Court should not be 
so indulgent. It should recollect its first decision, 
and, before giving the care of this child to one of 
the divorced parents, it should ask, in the interests 
of this young boy, which parent will give the child 
the better education? The father — light, weak, 
incapable of keeping his promises, at the mercy of 
the first courtesan who passes him on the street, 
or the pure-minded mother, who in the midst of 
the gay and reckless social life of Paris, stood like 
a dignified statue, a mother of the old Roman 
type, of inflexible morality, capable of breaking 


Love vs. Law 


1 66 

with her own hands a chain which she could no 
longer wear with honour?” 

The light in the court room grew dim. In 
the far comers of the ceiling the gold design of 
the stars could be plainly seen. The audience 
could still see their every detail. Many people 
had entered the room since Henriette began her 
speech. A crowd surrounded the door, which was 
guarded by the city police. Here and there 
through the audience white neck-bands showed 
the lawyers. Yet this delicate-looking young 
woman, leaning over the Bar, held the undivided 
attention of the huge audience. 

“Gentlemen,” she cried, “will you deny to 
the mother the right to educate her son? To the 
mother who so thoroughly deserves the right? 
Monsieur Alembert pretends that the mother will 
neglect the education of her boy. This is only a 
pretext. If the mother delays for a year or two 
the conventional school routine, I can prove by 
the copy-books of the young Alembert that he 
is not backward. The health of the child is 
important ; and the mother does not wish, by send- 
ing him away to school, to expose him to con- 
tagious diseases. I will soon read you a medical 
certificate, signed by the family doctor, not by a 
doctor hastily called in.” 

At this Fabrezan arose, his bass voice completely 
drowning the light voice of Henriette. “Pardon, 
Mr. President, I wish to remark that the opinion 
of a new physician in a case like this has far 


A Perilous Victory 167 

more weight than the certificate of a family- 
physician. ” 

This altercation lasted a few moments. The 
old lawyer and the young one cleverly discussing 
the value of the two certificates. They made a 
striking picture, the tall majestic Chief of the Bar, 
his white hair seeming to make him belong to a 
parliament of the seventeenth century, and the 
pretty young woman, with her golden hair, and 
flushed cheeks, an incarnation of the twentieth 
century. The President stopped the discussion by 
saying, ‘‘Master Fabrezan, let Madame continue.’’ 

And Madame again took up her thread. She 
spoke of the noble qualities of Suzanne Marty, 
and of her fine education which fitted her to 
teach her only son. 

Suddenly she stopped. She had stood for forty 
minutes, sometimes leaning nervously forward 
with her two hands on the rail. This had been 
her only gesture. She asked for a recess, and the 
President suggested the adjournment of the Court. 
But she refused to accept this. Next he offered 
to postpone the case until the eighth, but she 
said, “No, no, my dear sir, I cannot be here on 
the eighth. ’’ 

So, after a pause of only a few moments, she 
again took up her speech. Her argument lasted 
one hour and a half longer. She argued clearly. 
After the emotional and somewhat feminine appeal 
of the first part she offered a carefully prepared 
argument of the most scientific kind. Her appeals 


i68 


Love vs. Law 


to cases and judgments, in decisions relating to 
children, surprised the Court as to her learning. 
It was a strange and unexpected exhibition of 
feminine power. This youthful woman, showing 
herself such a master of jurisprudence, despite 
her childlike air, impressed the Court. Even 
Fabrezan smiled behind his hand. 

The group of lawyers commented warmly. 

She is magnificent ! ” 

Andre Velines felt uncomfortable. Without 
knowing exactly why he did not find it agreeable 
to have his wife thus hold spell-bound an audience 
of two hundred people, whose eyes had been fixed 
on her face for hours. He wished that she had 
revealed her talent to him before, and not let him 
discover it here among this crowd of strangers. 
He thought her to blame. Brother lawyers rushed 
over to him and whispered, “My dear man, 
what a wonderful wife you have ! And he smiled 
with the somewhat bored air of a man who has 
heard this before, replying, “Oh, yes! She has 
worked at this for months. 

If he were not to have a part in her success, 
at least people should not know it. 

Henriette ended her argument with a clear, 
concise, almost dry, resume, which pleased the 
judges, and which all the lawyers thoroughly 
appreciated. The room was silent, and the waning 
daylight showed that evening was near. The 
young lawyer sat down, weak and exhausted. 
Kind Mademoiselle Angely, nearly beside herself 


A Perilous Victory 169 

with delight, rushed forward seized her hands 
warmly. ‘'What a triumph!” she exclaimed. 
“What a triumph!” She could say no more. 

Velines in his turn came up to her. “You look 
ill! This has been too much for you. You have 
had a great success, you know, only it does not 
seem to me a profession for a woman. ” 

She scarcely heard him. She saw only the 
bench and the three judges in consultation by the 
light of the President’s reading-lamp, discussing 
the case together. 

“If Suzanne does not keep her son it will be 
shameful, ” she murmured, excitedly. 

There were whispers heard in the audience. 
Waiting for the judgment was a strain for every- 
body. There was not a person present who did 
not hope that Henriette would win her case. A 
voice broke the silence, yet no one knew whence 
it came : “ It would be a great blow to the old man. ” 
The discussion of the judges continued. The 
Dean of the Bar, having nervously picked all the 
pins out of his cap began to put them all back. 
At last after a pause he drew near Henriette. 
“Heavens! my little lady! I would not care to 
have an adversary like you every day. ” 

She looked up at him, with her face aglow. 
These words of her old Master were the first 
proof of her success. “Do you mean it? Have 
I really done well? I was afraid I was con- 
temptible.” 

“We men—” said Fabrezan, becoming serious, 


170 


Love vs. Law 


^‘we give our legal ability, when we have it; but 
you women, in arguing, give yourselves. Your 
passion is your strength.” 

The whole room awaited the verdict, nervously, 
almost feverishly. Many hearts beat with excite- 
ment. The windows cut great black square 
shadows into the night. The recording clerk and 
the attorney-general for the government on either 
side of the judges, had ceased writing. 

Ten minutes passed. Henriette sighed deeply, 
leaning forward wearily on her arms. It was 
exactly a quarter past five o’clock, when the voice 
of the President was heard saying, “Yes, the 
parties in this brief, etc.” The delay was short. 
The father’s fault was recalled, also the proof of 
the mother’s ability to educate her child. In 
the conclusion the judges one by one announced 
their decision. 

“The Court confirms its previous decision, 
giving to Madame Marty, divorced wife of Alem- 
bert, the care of the minor child.” 

Then slowly the three judges stood up and 
moved away noiselessly into the darkness. At 
once loud cries of, “Good! Good!” rose from 
the audience, followed by sighs of general satis- 
faction. And two hundred joyful people, after 
impatiently waiting their turn, pushed forward to 
congratulate the marvellous little lawyer, this 
little queen of the court room. When, taking off 
her toque, she wished to leave the court house, 
and crossed the room, a veritable mob pressed 


A Perilous Victory 


171 

forward to obtain a glimpse of this fascinating 
woman, so dainty and apparently calm in her 
triumph. She walked out slowly, one step at a 
time; Fabrezan preceded her, making room for 
her. At the entrance she found her mother, 
Madame Marcadieu, who, concealed by the crowd, 
now threw her arms around her daughter’s neck. 
Her father, more excited than he showed, con- 
gratulated her, and also all the women-lawyers of 
the Bar. 

The ovation lasted twenty-five minutes, and it 
was even longer before she could reach the 
dressing-room. 

When she finally found herself on her husband’s 
arm, in the Place Dauphine, she leaned heavily 
on him. “O, dearest, I am so worn out.” 

^‘It is absurd for you to have let yourself get 
into such a state. You have eaten nothing for 
three days, and with such a strain coming — ^Will 
you send for a doctor?” 

“A doctor will be useless, Andre! I know my 
illness, dear. To-day it has no remedy, but in 
eight months I shall be well. ” 

' ‘ Henriette ! Henriette ! What I Why have you 
not told me?” Then she explained to Andre 
that she would be delighted to have a child, but she 
had determined to finish the Marty case. If her 
husband had seen her feeling ill, he would never 
have allowed her to argue the case. It had been an 
effort of will. Andre overwhelmed his wife with 
expressions of affection and tenderness, and put- 


172 


Love vs. Law 


ting his arms around her he drew her gently 
toward him. Yet, with the masculine selfishness 
of the average man, he thought with gleeful 
satisfaction, ‘‘This is the last case that you will 
argue. 


BOOK III 


CHAPTER VII 
A f^:ministe tea-party 

E very winter, on the anniversary of her admis- 
sion to the Bar, Mademosielle Angely invited 
all the women lawyers into her little apartment on 
the Rue Chanoinesse. As she had no drawing- 
room, she received them in her little study, which 
adjoined the dining-room, and connected with 
it by a door with four glass panels which were 
opened during the day. Between four and six 
o’clock these women drank Indian tea, the 
gift of an English friend, and ate toast brought 
to them on tiny gilt plates by a little maid of 
fifteen, one of the juvenile offenders whom Made- 
moiselle Angely had taken from her colony at 
Ablon. 

These little maids were not permanent treasures, 
and changed each year. One departed, homesick 
for the old street life. Another made herself so 
sick, eating sweets during her mistress’ absence, 
that she had to be sent back to the colony. A 
third made free with the contents of Mademoiselle’s 
173 


174 


Love vs. Law 


purse. Many hundred francs disappeared in this 
way, every year, and in a house, too, where the 
income was not large. Still, filled with sublime 
enthusiasm. Mademoiselle Angely returned un- 
dismayed to what she called her clinic, and chose 
a new little maid, again and again. Her hopes for 
the regeneration of these juvenile offenders never 
wavered. No matter how often she was deceived, 
her faith never faltered. 

She lived in an ancient discoloured house, the 
front of which was slightly uneven, owing to the 
curve of the quaint old street. A large gate re- 
mained open all day, for the convenience of a 
carpenter, who had his office in the court-yard. 
On each floor were five large windows of the eigh- 
teenth-century style, with Venetian blinds. The 
street curved at both ends, and here and there, in 
the dusk of a late November afternoon, a number 
of squares could be seen. Along the walls an 
occasional cat ran daintily, trying to avoid the 
mud of the pavement. Not far away could be 
heard the roar of a factory. To the left the houses 
increased in size, to the right they diminished, and 
were over-hung with rusty balconies. Here could 
be seen the ruins of ancient Paris, now dying in 
the very part of the city which once had seen its 
birth. The clerks in the windows of the first 
floors were always astonished to see so many hand- 
some women going into the shabby old building. 

At quarter past four o’clock the only two guests 
who were missing for this season were Louise 


175 


A Feministe Tea-Party 

Pemette and Henriette Velines. In Mademoiselle 
Angely’s study, furnished with mahogany, of the 
period of the Restoration, three simple oil lamps 
gave the only light, hardly showing the dark 
gowns of the visitors. Their hostess, fifty years 
old and very stout, kept her arm-chair near the 
fireplace. In the other comer, with her cloth 
skirt fitting too tightly over her hips, was Madame 
Surgeres, the famous Feministe orator, who always 
talked as if addressing an audience. 

Madame Martinal, of whom the mistress of the 
house was especially fond, stood near her. Under 
a man’s felt hat, her brown hair looked luxuriant. 
A little overpowered by the energy of these older 
women, two timid young law-students, Jeanne de 
Louvrol and Marie Morvan, were seated side by 
side, looking toward the fire and listening to them 
in silent admiration. In spite of eighteen months’ 
work in the Palais, these young people still kept 
their schoolgirl manners. At the right, before 
the tea-table, towered the handsome Geronce, 
with a figure like a statue, her eyebrows painted, 
and her cheeks delicately powdered. She was 
arguing with the Feministe, calling her familiarly, 
^‘My little Surgeres,” and not hesitating to con- 
tradict her. In this lively atmosphere Madame 
Debreynes was out of her element. Without say- 
ing much, she listened attentively, half closing her 
pretty but near-sighted eyes. She had chosen a 
chair somewhat in the background, where Madame 
Clementin had joined her; this woman looked more 


176 


Love vs. Law 


bilious than ever; with a tightly-fitting jacket 
which made her figure look like that of a child, 
she pretended to feel quite at her ease in spite of 
the fact that very recently her husband had been 
dismissed from the Bar. 

The success of Henriette Velines was still the 
subject of conversation, in the world of the Palais. 
Even men were forced to admit that this woman 
had a talent for law — those men, too, who were 
ready to sneer at the appearance of women at the 
Bar, who had been courteous, polite, even gallant, 
but had never taken the women-lawyers seriously 
— indeed, all these lawyers, despite their admira- 
tion, felt a little uncomfortable over this feminine 
success. And Isabelle Geronce, accustomed to 
lead by her beauty, at the Bar, had also felt some 
twinges of jealousy. Madame Surgeres went on 
proclaiming loudly that the victory of Henriette 
was the greatest triumph the Feministe party had 
yet had. She was a pure idealist, and said that 
the little Velines had done more for the cause of 
women than any one else. 

“But, my dear,” said Geronce, excitedly, un- 
conscious of her illogical conclusions, “Do you 
know I think that the success of the little Velines 
will re-act against Feminism. Do you know what 
it proves? When one of us speaks fairly well, 
the whole judicial world is amazed. Is this 
amazement an honor to the cause?” 

“Andre Velines is superior to his wife,” she 
continued. “I have admired him many times. 


A Feministe Tea-Party 


177 


and if he had argued the case for Madame Marty, 
he would perhaps not have held the audience as 
long as his wife, but he would have given us more 
weighty arguments. No one then would have 
been surprised or dreamed of giving him such an 
ovation. Velines is a powerful speaker; and for 
him to have argued a case well would have been 
thought only natural; while his wife, making even 
a mediocre argument after six months of prepara- 
tion, is considered a miracle.” 

The whole room protested against this state- 
ment, all talking at the same time. Madame 
Surgeres reproached Geronce for being so half- 
hearted, and said Henriette had quite as much 
ability as Velines. Mademoiselle Angely found 
the husband and wife very unlike in their intel- 
lectual gifts, and thought the husband had the 
greater strength, but Henriette had more delicate 
insight. Madame Debreynes, a woman of the 
world who was not ambitious for success as a 
lawyer, praised Henriette heartily. Poor yellow 
Madame Clementin, laughing as she unfastened 
her jacket, called the discussion most amazing. 
The young law-students merely whispered to- 
gether, “Mercy! Think of arguing a case like 
this and then being so severely criticised!” 

Madame Martinal did not speak. She listened, 
weighing the reasons of each and yet herself 
wholly loyal. She tried to analyse the feelings 
which this dispute inspired. Then, in a low tone, 
so that only Mademoiselle Angely would hear, she 

12 


178 


Love vs. Law 


offered : “Oh, well, Geronce may be right ; Henriette 
may have only done wonderfully well for a woman, 
but still she has done far more than any one of 
the rest of us. I have always recognised her 
superiority, although I have sometimes been 
irritated by it. She is a better lawyer than we 
are, and I have often envied her resourcefulness, 
and her self-confidence. Yes, I have envied her, 
naturally; for she is rich and we have to work 
hard to earn our daily bread. I am ashamed at 
not rejoicing more heartily in her success, for she 
is charming and I love her devotedly.” 

The Alembert-Marty case had made such a 
profound impression on these women that they 
referred to it continually; and finally, touching 
the important part of the case, the future of the 
child, Madame Martinal, taking part in the general 
discussion, recalled the fact that a secretary of 
Fabrezan had seen the civil engineer, who was 
overwhelmed with grief at the loss of the child. 
Having looked forward to a wholly different ver- 
dict, he had newly furnished a room for his son in 
his apartment on the Boulevard de la Madeleine. 
Each time that he saw the boy he took him there, 
and pretended that it was his home, until six o’clock 
sounded, the signal for their separation. Madame 
Martinal found these details harrowing, but, from 
her standpoint, the mother was the one to be 
most pitied. 

“Do you think,” demanded Madame Surgeres, 
“that this mother, out of the kindness of her 


A Feministe Tea-Party 179 

heart, should give her unworthy husband the 
child?” 

The young widow replied, ‘'No, but we must go 
back to the absurd divorce which has broken up 
this happy home, without a really sufficient reason. ” 

“Without a really sufficient reason, ” echoed the 
Feministe. “Do you think unfaithfulness to the 
marriage vow is nothing, in the husband ? It seems 
to me a sufficient reason. Women have endured 
this offence too long; and if a woman imposes on 
the man the same punishment which she would 
have borne for the same sin, let us not be the first 
to criticise her. ” 

For a moment there was a pause. Mademoiselle 
Angely, leaning forward in her chair, took the 
tongs and stirred the fire. “This question as to 
whether the moral law should bind both sexes 
equally is a question which affects the foundation 
of law, of philosophy, and of social life.” She 
affirmed: “Society, always and everywhere, has 
been indulgent to the secret polygamy of men. 
We all are influenced by ancestral beliefs. Some 
struggle against this influence, others do not 
recognise it; but Christianity, which is the source 
even of moral law, certainly requires the same 
moral code for the husband as for the wife.” 

“As for me,” cried Jeanne de Louvrol, who 
always made people laugh, “I think that a man 
could do these wrong things and still continue to 
have my respect; whereas — a woman — well — she 
would lose it. ” 


i8o 


Love vs. Law 


The yoting girl blushed, hardly daring to say 
the things which had come into her mind. But 
Isabelle Geronce, whose coquetry and doubtful 
record were well known, said with an air of dignity : 
“ Surgeres is right. Since the man makes the same 
promises, why should he not be subjected to the 
same penalties? In a woman this sin has dis- 
astrous consequences for the home. But has the 
father a right to compromise the well-being of 
his family, to satisfy a caprice? Should he be 
blameless?” 

Nonsense!” retorted Madame Clementin, 
whose vulgar spirit could not comprehend this 
argument. 

Mademoiselle Angely quietly placed the tongs 
on the andirons, and then, in her soft contralto 
voice replied: ^‘When we look for a rule of life for 
women, we ought to think not so much of their 
rights as of their duties. The Feministes ought 
to reflect on this, my good Madame Surgeres. 
What is the advantage of enumerating the rights 
which they should have? What is the use of 
showing the wrongs they suffer, because of the 
unfaithfulness of their husbands? You know that 
men have always deceived women, more than 
women have deceived men, because men are more 
sensual. Therefore is it not better to look at 
married life from the point of view of the child, 
who is after all the most important part of the 
family trinity? I know personally the mother 
and father whose divorce case we heard pleaded 


A Feministe Tea-Party i8i 

the other day; but I can also imagine the lot of 
the poor little boy, who belongs to both the man 
and the woman. At the age when the affections 
are strongest and the father’s and mother’s love 
most needed, he sees his parents separated, and 
is wretched in their separation. In breaking the 
bonds which held them together, these two have 
nearly broken their son’s heart. Who will ever 
know whether in the depths of his own soul the 
boy is satisfied with the decisions of the Court 
which have given him to his mother ? And if the 
poor child longs for his father, do you realise the 
dumb grief that will prevent him, with his delicate 
sensibilities, from ever confessing it? Let others 
reflect and argue over the rights of the offended 
mother, but as for me I believe that it was her 
duty to endure and to forgive, in order that the 
innocent child should grow up in a serene, spiritual 
atmosphere. According to my way of thinking a 
woman should utterly forget herself, for the sake 
of the being whom she has called into life.” 

All listened in silence to this unmarried woman, 
who had acted as a mother to so many unfortunate 
children. In her great charity and her lofty 
devotion to the highest ideals of maternity, she 
had been a magnificent example of maternal love. 
But before she finished speaking and while she 
was still pulling down the skirt of her purple gown, 
Madame Surgeres, who by temperament was a 
fighter, began to contradict these retrogressive 
ideas. She insisted that the individual child 


Love vs. Law 


182 

must be sacrificed, and that the servitude of the 
wife to the old-fashioned idea of duty was absurd. 
She said that for a human being to fail of complete 
self-realisation because she sacrificed herself to 
her husband and her children was utterly wrong. 
To confirm this idea she quoted the statement of a 
militant Feministe: 

“No, a woman owes nothing to her husband or 
her children”; she went on, “because we have 
duties only to ourselves. The individual is an 
end in himself and ought not to be considered 
merely as the means for creating or perfecting 
another individual. In society, as I conceive it, 
love and maternity should be only episodes in 
the life of women, and should no longer comprise 
their whole history.” 

Then gentle Madame Martinal, who never cared 
for discussions, but who at times uttered her 
opinions very frankly, laughed and said : 

“Forgive me, dear Madame Surgeres, you know 
that I cannot be a real Feministe, and your inde- 
pendent theories seem so chilling to me when I 
think of my dear little children — my joy, my life, 
and my whole history. You may say that these 
children are only episodes, but who is to be re- 
sponsible for these little beings, called into the 
world without any wish of their own?” 

The discussion was growing more heated when 
two persons entered, through the dining-room. 
They were Louise Pernette and Henriette Velines. 
A flattering murmur greeted the last-comer, the 


A Feministe Tea-Party 


183 


celebrity of the day. She was moist with the 
dampness of the evening, great drops of water 
on her veil, her lovely blonde hair shining like 
silk under her large black hat. She was pretty 
and gay. She had acquired, since her success, a 
certain air of distinction, and her friends felt, 
when with her, the mysterious attraction of power. 
She was immediately surrounded. But good 
Mademoiselle Angely devoted herself to Louise 
Pemette, who she knew was sad. She took her 
aside, speaking a few words to her. They shared 
a secret. Isabelle Geronce had no qualms, when 
with the young girl, whom she was making un- 
happy. She even left Madame Velines, in the midst 
of a lively conversation, and in her magnificent 
toilette, heavily trimmed with fringes of beads, in 
the latest fashion, she came close to the simple 
Louise, dressed in blue serge. Pressing her hand 
she tapped her familiarly on the shoulder, inquir- 
ing, “When do you argue a case again? It is a 
long time since we have heard you.” 

Louise tried to seem unconcerned, but she was 
pale, and had difficulty in replying, “You have 
not lost much, Madame.” 

Just then some exclamation of surprise broke 
from the group that surrounded Henriette. In 
her feminine pride she had hinted to them her 
great news, of the child that she hoped to have. 
Astonished congratulations came to her from all 
sides. They thought her still more remarkable. 
Indeed to this group of intellectual women it was 


1 84 


Love vs. Law 


a great triumph that one of them combined a 
masculine professional victory, with a French- 
woman’s instinctive pride in maternity. They 
felt that the charming little woman had justi- 
fied their intellectual ambitions by showing that 
she was none the less a woman because of her 
professional success. 

The maid, a fair-haired child of only sixteen, car- 
ried about the tea on a Japanese tray. Louise Per- 
nette recognised her; for, only six months before, 
she had defended her, in the English Court, where 
she was tried for being a runaway girl. The Court 
had acquitted her, and then had sent her to the 
colony in Ablon, from which Mademoiselle Angely 
had taken her, only a week before, attracted by 
her honest eyes and good record. These women 
all greeted the little culprit warmly, and Mademoi- 
selle Angely already loved the poor little waif 
saved from Parisian gutters. 

'‘See, Palmyre,” said she, with that authority 
mixed with kindness which was so effective; “see, 
Palmyre, these ladies are all lawyers who busy 
themselves with poor little girls like you. They 
are delighted to see you doing so well to-day. 
Thank Mademoiselle Pemette, who was so kind 
to you!” 

Timid Palmyre acted foolishly. In the pris- 
oners’ dock she had responded boldly to all the 
questions asked her by the President. She had 
even scolded the guards, who brought her there, 
in language far from academic. But in this 


A Feministe Tea-Party 


185 


salon, before all these women of the world, she 
was full of embarrassment, and, lifting the hand 
which was not supporting the tray, she hid her 
face in her sleeve, burst into tears, and ran to- 
wards the kitchen. 

“Ah!” whispered Mademoiselle Angely, look- 
ing intently at Louise Pemette, “the harvest is 
ripe. We have only need of more workers.” 

Louise lowered her head, her eyes shining with 
tears. The presence of Madame Geronce, whose 
flirtation with her accepted lover she was sensi- 
tive about, made the young girl uncomfortable. 
Under her apparent self-contained manner lay 
a deep feeling of discouragement. Between her 
and her happy, successful, and well-loved friend, 
Velines, there was a heart-breaking contrast. 
She was the daughter of a French officer, without 
fortune, now in a garrison town in the East. 
Four years earlier she had come bravely and alone 
to Paris to study law. She also had dreamed of 
love and of glory. But alas! Now her lover had 
deceived her, and her childlike sensitiveness kept 
her from success in her profession. She had a 
fine, well-poised and logical mind. Few law- 
students knew as much law as she did, and in 
her own classes, she took high rank. Nevertheless, 
she was not a success, and the case of Leroy- 
Mathalin, which she had recently lost, had used 
up all her nervous strength. 

Mademoiselle Angely, her confidante, who knew 
her many discouragements and the temptation 


i86 


Love vs. Law 


she had to abandon the profession of law, had 
been for several days trying to give her fresh 
courage. She said now — “These young things 
ruin themselves by vice, if hands are not stretched 
out to aid them. These children have demanded 
bread; shall we give them a stone?” 

She spoke in a low mysterious tone, so that only 
Louise heard her. But, noticing that their leader 
had said something serious, every one in the room 
stopped talking to listen. Angely had a skin al- 
most too delicate in its pink and white colouring. 
Her hair had lost its colour, and she wore it parted 
in two waving bands, in the style of thirty years 
before. But in this elderly woman’s face two 
penetrating eyes looked out with a singularly 
sweet expression, and with great spiritual in- 
tensity. She rose and said simply, “Do drink 
your tea while it is hot, my children.” 

Then she poured the tea into cups, which the 
ladies passed among themselves. All were stand- 
ing, holding their saucers, surrounding the tea- 
table. Mademoiselle Angely tried to butter the 
toast. Henriette stood a little aside, watching 
the thoughtful kindness which her hostess put 
into the smallest acts. While cutting fresh 
sandwiches, she was busy following out her 
ideas. “Yes, my friends, there is one among you 
whom I will not name, who causes me much 
anxiety; for she does not love our profession and 
wishes to give it up.” 

All thought that she must mean one of the 


A Feministe Tea-Party 


187 


young law-students, and they looked at Marie 
Morvan, whom gossip had already reported as 
desiring to retire from the study of law. She had 
beautiful white teeth, and was busy eating her 
toasted bread, with the expression of a gourmand, 
and was evidently wholly indifferent to what was 
being said. Mademoiselle Angely went on: ‘Ts it 
not a shame that a young woman who has the power 
to become one of the noblest beings in the world, 
the power to defend the innocent, should willingly 
give up that power? There are thousands of 
intelligent and idle women who are dying because 
they feel themselves useless in the world, and who 
envy the woman who has the right to wear this 
legal robe, in which you do so much good. If 
you were giving your lives to the acquisition of 
difficult knowledge, or if you had acquired the 
privilege of filling some social position as well as 
men can fill it, what would that amount to? To 
equal men, to compete with them in brain power, 
in will, or in physical strength, what an absurd 
ambition? We shall never be superior to men. 
We are beings of a very different character, we 
were created solely to protect the child, this little 
creature whom man creates and then is so little 
interested in. That which is true in the family 
is true in society. No woman can be indifferent 
to childhood; and what if she sees children bom 
into the worst of miseries — ^vice and crime! How 
much power you have to assist these little crimi- 
nals; to shorten their stay in prison, and, in the 


i88 


Love vs. Law 


intimate friendship between juvenile criminals 
and their lawyers, to influence their whole future 
lives? On the day of the trial before the Court, 
in the eyes of the juvenile offender you stand for 
an almost Divine Power; and I know nothing 
more heart-rending than the mute appeal, in 
the sad eyes of these little ones, as they look 
towards their counsel.’’ 

After a moment’s pause she continued; “Yes! I 
am told that the men-lawyers are sometimes very 
devoted to their little clients. And that is true. 
There are many admirable characters at the Bar. 
But they cannot have the same maternal instinct, 
they cannot feel the same keen sympathy for 
childhood, criminal childhood, that women feel. 
Only — we have not nearly women enough at 
the Bar. Every Monday, scores of children come 
to the Eighth Court, and how many women are 
there to defend them? Many have no counsel. 
There are no workers for the harvest — and yet 
there are some among you who wish to desert 
the cause. ” 

Madame Martinal, who never argued cases 
but whose work was in the office, feared that she 
was being reproached, and started to defend 
herself. “Dear Mademoiselle Angely, you are a 
missionary, and you wish to inspire us all with 
your high ideal. I must confess that when I 
entered the profession I did not aim at such a 
noble goal. I did not dream of reforming these 
unhappy little ones. The only children whom I 


A Feministe Tea-Party 


189 

had in mind were my own. They were without 
a father and without an income, and I was only a 
poor unhappy woman who wished honestly to 
earn her daily bread. To feed my little family 
I was ready to peddle apples, if necessary. I knew 
a little law; I have tried to use the little law 
that I knew. My dear ones are growing, and now 
I am able to have a modest home. I am not 
heroic, and my task may seem very small to some 
of you, for I am trying simply to feed and educate 
my three little boys. On my poor shoulders, 
however, the burden is heavy indeed. ” 

Then Madame Surgeres protested : “ No ! No ! 
that is not enough.” And she shook her fore- 
finger at Madame Martinal. *Tt is not enough to 
look after one’s own, like the pretty, thoughtless 
birds, who in the great forest think only of their 
own nest.” Then she spoke of the solidarity 
of women, of feminine emancipation, of the 
necessity of struggling against the masculine yoke. 
‘‘Oh yes, I have been eager for the admission of 
women to the Bar. I felt it to be a campaign 
against man, and I carried it on in a warlike 
spirit, to make men admit the equality of the 
sexes, to establish justice for women, and, above 
all, to furnish women with weapons against their 
ancient tyrant.” 

“I became a lawyer,” remarked Henriette 
Velines, as soon as she could get a word in, after 
the excitable Feministe, “for many reasons; and 
I agree in part with all your theories. Madame 


190 


Love vs. Law 


Surgeres's theory appeals to my pride, and I con- 
fess that at eighteen it pleased me, in choosing a 
man’s profession, to assert the superiority of my 
young brain. Later, the idea of Mademoiselle 
Angely attracted me, and I have dreamed of 
helping the little culprits. Then, little by little, 
the practice of my profession has developed me 
into a true lawyer, and I now enjoy taking any 
case which my client brings me, and am grateful 
for the opportunity.” She was so calm and 
thoughtful, in stating this general attitude, that 
her contribution shocked no one. 

Isabelle Geronce, however, interrupted her by 
saying that a woman ought to be a lawyer only 
when she defended women against men. 

“ Indeed, ” laughed Madame Martinal, ‘rif a man 
brings me a case to try, I think that I would be very 
foolish not to take it. I am not fighting on your 
side, dear friends. But it is well that there is 
an advance guard to smooth the road for us. 
You may exaggerate, and your extreme theories 
sometimes amuse me. But at least you establish 
principles which simple, practical women like me 
can use ; we who love the sunshine find it ready for 
us on clear days — thanks to you who are so 
much more audacious and valiant than are 
we.” 

Every one agreed with her calm good sense and 
with her kindly attitude toward life. In the 
chimney comer Mademoiselle Angely had thrown 
on more wood. The three hanging lamps added a 


A Feministe Tea-Party 191 

gentle warmth, while the delicate perfume of the 
Indian tea pervaded the atmosphere. 

This gathering of women was extremely modern. 
They talked without frivolity, and debated con- 
scientiously the latest social problems, all with as 
much simplicity as had their mothers, in discuss- 
ing their toilettes. 

Behind the tea-table sat Madame Debreynes, 
very curious to hear of the doings in the Palais 
de Justice, which she had never entered. The 
young law-students were delighted to tell her 
stories about their life. These young girls, though 
only in the Palais from noon until four o’clock, 
were quick to seize on all the amusing points, and 
were pleased to find the least thing to ridicule 
in the judicial world. They explained that there 
were three classes of judges, those of the past, 
those of the present, and those of the future. 
President Erambourg they called cruel, represent- 
ing the old order. In court, any penalty imposed 
at first by the other judges, was invariably doubled 
by him. 

^‘Yes, ” cried Jeanne de Louvrol, with her eyes 
ablaze, for she had a generous kindliness toward 
all her poor little clients, “the greatest culprit is 
the hard-hearted, dry-faced judge, who, comfort- 
ably seated in his arm-chair, does not wish to 
hear arguments or debates, but is content to 
apply mechanically an ancient law. ” 

Then Marie Morvan told how, the week before, 
Maurice Servais had defended a poor boy con- 


192 


Love vs. Law 


demned to four months’ imprisonment for a first 
offence, in the Appeal Court before Erambourg. 
He had seen this sentence doubled to eight months, 
and had used all his oratorical power to prove that 
an imprisonment of three months for this first 
crime would have left the boy free to take a situa- 
tion offered him in a new country where he could 
start afresh; but he had pleaded in vain. 

At hearing this news of Maurice, Louise Per- 
nette, who was listening to the conversation and 
trying to conceal her depression, drew near. All 
three agreed in praising some members of the 
Government, — attorneys who were ready to over- 
look the old-fashioned legal code, and procured 
the best counsel for the defence. A sentiment in 
favour of humanitarianism was beginning to be 
felt in the sphere of politics, and in their judicial 
addresses the lawyers even professed themselves 
in favour of philosophical ideals. This, according 
to these three young girls, was the judicial ideal 
of the future, the reign of good-will — crime treated 
pathologically, not punished. As they became 
more excited over their discussion, the six other 
ladies joined them, one by one, curious to hear 
what subject was holding their attention. 

Madame Surgeres, having caught the last word, 
said, “We are not savages. The persistence of the 
right to punish dishonours our society. I dream 
of a new Palais de Justice, where the judges shall be 
more like merciful priests, who, sympathising with 
the criminal, will lead him gently towards virtue. ” 


193 


A Feministe Tea-Party 

“Criminals? Are there any criminals?” de- 
manded Henriette Velines, in a clear voice. She 
also was impressed by modem ideas, and was full 
of humanitarian sentiments. “I hold that there 
are only moral invalids. We do not punish the 
sick. We nurse them. A judge ought to be a 
physician. ” 

But Mademoiselle Angely, with her clear- 
sighted mind, was quick to correct this idea. 
“No, no! So long as we admit the necessity of 
law, we must have judges who judge. The lawyer 
however, fills a different r61e. He must classify 
the moral maladies of his clients, and bring them 
spiritual remedies ” 

Then, gently, with that mysterious authority 
which came from her mental and moral superior- 
ity, she showed them the necessity for ptuiishment. 
She described almost poetically the majestic 
statue of Justice, which according to the old 
legends stood on the front of the Palais looking 
over the Place Dauphine. Then, returning to 
the judges, she contrasted the severe Erambourg 
with two or three of the younger men, whose 
desire for popularity made them give light sen- 
tences. Monsieur Marcadieu, the father of Hen- 
riette, she named as the ideal judge. In the great 
Palais, where so many efforts were made to reach 
absolute equality, this man alone, seemed to be 
able to perceive absolute justice. He gave his 
decisions without considering side issues, and with 
a great love of truth, and with a noble, discreet 

*3 


194 


Love vs. Law 


dignity. His decisions were rarely quoted in the 
daily papers. But the Bar knew him well; and 
all the lawyers present, even the perfidious Ma- 
dame Clementin, joined heartily in these praises, 
exclaiming, “Oh, President Marcadieu! If we 
could always try our cases before him 

Henriette was deeply touched by this praise 
given to her father. A happy smile spread quite 
over her face. From criticising the judges they 
passed on to the lawyers. The candidates for 
attorney-general were making some trouble for 
the Bar. The ambitious Lecellier, who had long 
aimed at this high honour, seemed to have lost all 
his chances of being chosen at the next elections; 
and Marie Morvan repeated the witticism which 
had been passed about at the last Conference, in 
allusion to the elaborate dinners which this dis- 
tinguished candidate planned for his political 
campaign, “Lecellier’s attacks of indigestion will 
come next year!” 

Little Madame Debreynes opened her large 
piercing eyes, saying, “I do not understand what 
you mean. ” 

They then had to explain that LeceUier was not 
rich, and was ruining himself trying to get votes. 
It was certain that if he gained the election he 
would close this long series of heavy dinners; 
and that he would then give as an excuse some form 
of dyspepsia. Although really well, Lecellier, now 
occasionally complained of attacks of indigestion. 

With a feminine taste for scandal these women 


195 


A Feministe Tea-Party 

all were ready with sneering anecdotes about their 
brother lawyers. Louise Pemette noted that 
Blondel, when he wished this position, had gathered 
about him a large number of secretaries, and each 
one, of course, meant a vote. 

Madame Martinal said that Temisien, an enor- 
mous, well-preserved man of fifty, with red hair 
and a fair skin, was already beginning to take the 
paternal attitude toward the younger lawyers 
and call them, “My dear children,” for fear lest 
he should be kept waiting too long for the high 
position. Jeanne de Louvrol said of him that he 
dyed his hair. Madame Clementin, an enemy of 
Fabrezan because he had expelled her husband 
from the Bar, declared that many people had been 
bribed to give him his election. She named some 
of the younger men whose votes he had bought 
by promising them cases. But this scandalous bit 
of gossip was considered in bad taste, and was 
received in frigid silence; only Mademoiselle 
Angely broke in, exclaiming, “You astonish me, 
Madame Clementin,” This was enough. The 
slander was condemned. No one had believed it. 
Every one admired Fabrezan, and when just then 
Henriette said, “Good-bye,” speaking of her 
fatigue, all thought that she intended to make 
her hasty departure a protest against this out- 
rageous slander of her old friend. 

After she had gone, they spoke of Velines. 
Isabelle Geronce thought that he was aiming at 
the highest position in the Bar. 


196 


Love vs. Law 


“He will be Dean of the Bar some day,’' said 
Mademoiselle Angely. “He has the necessary 
qualities — distinction and dignity.” 

“And talent,” added Madame Martinal. 

“Oh, that is superfluous,” said cynical Madame 
Clementin. 

All smiled, but no one doubted that some day 
Velines would be their leader. At thirty-three he 
had already outstripped many older men in the 
race. He was the object of considerable envy, 
but these women were more ready to recognise 
his ability, now that his wife had made a great 
success. 

The two Feministes left together, and Madame 
Clementin soon after. Then the two young 
students and Madame Debreynes. Finally, of 
the lively group of ten clever women, were left 
only Louise Pemette and Madame Martinal. 

They felt much at home with Mademoiselle 
Angely. The young widow spoke of one of her 
children, the eldest, who had just entered Charle- 
magne School, and stood first in history and 
geography. She seemed very happy, but felt 
some anxiety for the winter, as she had not tried 
many cases lately, and had only three hundred 
dollars ahead. If luck should be against her what 
would become of the tiny apartment on the Quai 
de Megisserie? Mademoiselle Angely turned 
away her head, to hide a tear, when Madame 
Martinal told how her little ten-year-old son 
Peter asked, every evening, on his return from 


197 


A Feministe Tea-Party 

school, ^‘Have you a new case, Mamma?’’ For 
some time she had answered, “No,” and often 
she had heard him crying himself to sleep; Alas! 
He knew already some of the difficulties of their 
precarious existence. 

“Go and see Fabrezan,” suggested Mademoiselle 
Angely. 

“Oh, yes, Fabrezan! Perhaps he will give me 
some clients like Madame Faustin, whose divorce 
case I argued. A charming woman indeed, but 
in a worse plight than my own, even poorer than 
I am. I dared not ask from her more than ten 
francs. She had no profession, and a daughter to 
educate. ” 

“Then go to Fabrezan and tell him that you 
now deserve a millionaire for a client!” 

Madame Martinal smiled, and said, “Good- 
bye”; always brave, nothing took away her 
spirit. She had known worse moments. She 
would not accept defeat at the hands of fate. 

Louise Pemette remained t6te-a-t6te with Made- 
moiselle Angely, who, standing, looked at her 
sadly. “Well, Louise?” 

“Mademoiselle?” 

“I have here a list of forty-seven minors which 
has been given to me. Twenty-three of them have 
not yet found lawyers to defend them. Four of 
the cases are to come up on Monday. Will you 
refuse to take them?” 

Louise, her eyes lowered, shook her head 
obstinately. 


198 


Love vs. Law 


“I have done enough,” she said, cannot do 
more. I wish to leave Paris. ” 

“Make one more effort, Louise. You will 
sacrifice a part of your own soul to save four poor 
little children — Is not that a noble task?” 

“I cannot do any more,” said Louise. “I 
cannot rettun to the Palais.” 

Mademoiselle Angely asked, gently, “Because 
?” 

“Yes!” cried Louise, and hid her face in her 
handkerchief, and burst into tears. 

They exchanged only a few more words, that 
evening. But the young lawyer did not go away 
without promising to defend the four little crimi- 
nals, on the Monday following. The enthusiasm 
of Mademoiselle Angely ended by over-niling all 
her objections. Besides, the elderly woman had 
a plan in her mind. She could not bear to see 
Louise suffer, and she determined to send Maurice 
back to her. 


CHAPTER VIII 


HER MIND S MATE 



‘OWARD the end of December Madame Man- 


1 sart came from Rouen, to spend Christmas and 
the New Year. She arrived one morning, for lunch. 
Henriette went to meet her at Saint-Lazare sta- 
tion. In the cab they embraced and talked 
intimately. The grandmother was delighted at 
the prospect of the new baby. She glanced over 
the young woman’s face and figure, and advised 
her not to over-tire herself. At the entrance to 
the house she wept, as Andre held her in his arms. 
Before lunch they all entered the hall where hung 
the old collection of prints. Small tables were 
strewn with illustrated papers. They were those 
that had published pictures of Henriette and the 
Marty trial. She took great pleasure in showing 
them to the grandmother. There was the young 
lawyer, standing with her finger in the air, before 
the judges ; here she was leaning on her portfolio ; 
and also in the position in which she had been 
taken, when she had been admitted to the Bar. 
Madame Mansart, with her far-sighted eyes, 
held the paper a little away from her, to see it 


200 


Love vs. Law 


better. She said nothing. Andre embraced Hen- 
riette tenderly, explaining, “Perhaps you have not 
heard of the great success of this little woman. 
Do you know that she is already a famous woman 
in Paris? Her argument was received with an 
ovation. 

Madame Mansart raised her face from the 
picture, saying simply, “Yes — you wrote me.” 

Then, when she had replaced the picture, she 
added, “I should think that at present, in her 
condition, she would give up arguing cases.” 

“Oh, yes!” cried the young woman, “the 
health of my child first! Even on the Marty 
trial Andre must replace me when it is appealed. ” 

They passed into the dining-room, and Madame 
Mansart spoke to her grandson. “And you — 
what are you doing?” 

“I have much work ahead,” replied the young 
man. 

The dining-room was opposite the hall with the 
collection of prints. It had white curtains, and 
over the mantel was a light chintz decorated with 
large flowers. In the court outside, there was a 
little snow, that morning; the branches of the 
linden tree were cut out in fine white lines; and, 
when the sparrows alighted on it, their feet looked 
as though coquettishly covered with white powder. 
The sun shone brightly through the windows 
upon the pewter and red copper vases on the 
English sideboard. Andre whispered, “Are we 
not cosy, dear Grandmother? ” His laugh showed 


Her Mind’s Mate 


201 


a peaceful content, his open lips displaying his 
handsome white teeth. Proud of his present 
robust health, he remembered the period of his 
illness, their anxiety, and the tenderness of Hen- 
riette. They looked at one another with great 
affection. In the little household there was a 
very beautiful atmosphere of love. 

Madame Mansart asked presently, *‘How about 
that case you were to defend, concerning the 
bank scandal ? What has become of it ? ” 

Velines assured her that this case was to come 
before the Eleventh Court in the beginning of 
February. It would be an important trial. Some 
members of the financial board were compromised. 
As to the accused himself, he had a most interest- 
ing personality. A master in all legal proceedings, 
he was capable of bewildering all the lawyers, 
and all the judges in the Palais. And if, by a 
miracle, after his audacious theft from the bank, 
he should be acquitted, he would deserve to be 
given a professorship in the law school. 

“And you know,’' added Henriette, “Andre 
pleaded his absolute innocence and good faith.’’ 

“You have many connections with the press, 
my daughter,’’ said the old lady, “and even 
friends among the journalists. You ought to 
invite them to dine, before this case is call- 
ed, so that your husband’s argument will be 
mentioned. ’’ 

“Oh, Grandmother! ’’responded Henriette, gaily. 
“We do not have to worry about making our 


202 


Love vs. Law 


reputations. Andre has enough talent not to need 
advertisement. ” 

But Andre looked at the old lady with gratitude. 
How much she loved him! How proud she was 
of him! And he said, “You are determined that 
I shall be celebrated. ” 

“But you are that, already!” asserted Hen- 
riette. And both smiled, in their admiration 
for him. 

Breakfast ended, Velines went to the Palais, 
where the judge had instructions to give him. 
Abel Lacroix, the attorney for the directors of 
the Continental Bank, had been excused on 
account of his health, and was to have an extra 
cross-examination that afternoon. There was 
still to be cleared up a question of forgery, which 
if pressed would send him directly for trial to the 
Criminal Court. 

The two ladies decided to go out shopping, to 
buy the layette. The grandmother had brought 
some old lace from Rouen. Henriette was de- 
lighted with it, and as they drove towards the 
Boulevard de Sebastopol, she opened the box of 
Valenciennes lace, and rolled it about her 
fingers, saying, “This will be exquisite, fas- 
cinating.” 

The baby was expected in May or June. It 
was a little early to buy the layette^ but they 
ordered some fine hand-work which would take 
a long time to finish, and they looked at many 
styles. 


Her Mind’s Mate 


203 


have so little time, now, said Henriette to 
Madame Mansart. 

“Dear little one, ” replied Andre’s grandmother. 
“ I am delighted to find you so simple and feminine, 
pleased with all the little baby things that other 
young mothers care for.” 

In the large lace stores they sat surrounded with 
rolls of muslin and batiste, linen and cambric 
The light fingers of the attendants, sliding in and 
out of the rolls, showed the fineness of the threads. 
They saw an enormous number of Christening 
dresses, and tiny bewitching under-garments, no 
larger than pocket-handkerchiefs. Then they be- 
gan to look at rolls of embroidery, with garlands 
done in fine silk on a frame, and at long snowy 
bands of linen covered with delicate floral designs. 
The grandmother, with her yellow skin and dyed 
hair, always wished the most expensive and most 
beautiful of everything, while Henriette — so young 
and blooming that the shop girl thought that she 
could not be the mamma — in sight of all these 
infant robes, could only dream of her own child, 
as she should some day see it, and hold it lovingly 
in her arms. Suddenly, however, she looked at 
her watch and rising said, “Quick, quick, I must 
go, Grandmother.” 

Madame Mansart was astonished, and not 
wholly pleased, at breaking off the shopping 
expedition. 

“It is my hour for consultation, and I shall 
find my office crowded, if I arrive late.” 


204 


Love vs. Law 


Your husband must take some of your clients, 
my dear. ” 

The young woman did not understand this. 
She was hurrying to her carriage. No, no! She 
was the one they wanted to see. Certainly 
Andre had a far greater head for business cases 
than she had. But, since the famous trial of 
Madame Marty, whether from curiosity or fash- 
ion, or a certain snobbishness, Henriette found 
herself consulted by the most prominent society 
women in Paris. Widows, divorcees, old maids, 
all asked her advice upon a thousand problems 
in their lives. 

Those who suffered from their husband's un- 
faithfulness could not make a contract for a sepa- 
ration without first consulting this popular young 
lawyer. What confidences she received from 
married women, and what confessions from the 
unmarried. 

What would the old-fashioned grandmother 
have thought of the confessions made in the study 
of the Place Dauphine, every day between four 
and six o'clock! What would she have said if 
she had heard them? 

“It is certainly a strange atmosphere for a 
young wife," said Madame Mansart, a little 
disturbed by what Henriette told her. 

“Nonsense, Grandmother! when I was twenty 
years old I had heard all kinds of things but I 
was not hurt by them. It all depends on the 
ear with which we listen. Then I have a constant 


Her Mind’s Mate 


205 


opportunity to accomplish some good. More 
than once I have prevented a woman from throw- 
ing vitriol into the face of a cowardly lover. I 
have calmed the excitement of many abandoned 
wives, and saved from divorce many a pleasant 
home where all that was needed was to embrace 
after a petty quarrel. Grandmother, Grand- 
mother! Never slander the lawyers! If you 
knew the power that a poor little woman such 
as I am, has, only because of her toque!” 

The cab stopped before the door, and Madame 
Mansart remained silent. The triangle of the 
Place Dauphine widened in the foggy December 
twilight so that the monumental fagade of the 
grand old Palais, with its white staircase, its great 
statues, and its three Greek doors, could be seen 
against the colourless sky. The old houses at the 
left made a slanting line. At the right the chill 
winds of winter had shrivelled up the trees, mak- 
ing them look, in the gloom of the evening, like 
the phantom trees in a deserted world, yet in the 
very centre of Paris. The house of the Velines 
looked imposing. The windows of the drawing- 
room were lighted, and as soon as the two women 
entered the valet said, There are five women here 
who have asked for Madame. They are waiting. ” 

“Very well, I must have time to take off my 
hat. ” 

Madame Mansart noticed how simple and 
natural she was in her gay young womanhood. 
Since morning this little wife of her grandson's 


206 


Love vs. Law 


had grown in her estimation. She had evidently- 
become something of a power in this great Palais 
de Justice so near them. Henriette showed very- 
little vanity, saying things about herself when 
they were necessary, but above all not saying 
too much. 

Very soon the old lady heard the bell ring, 
again and again. Velines received in his study, 
and Henriette in hers. 

Making an excuse that she wished to ask the 
cook about the housekeeping, she went to the 
kitchen, where the cook was helping her husband 
clean the silver. Speaking to the man, she said, 
“I hope Monsieur receives some callers to-day, 
Narcisse?” 

'‘Of course, Madame. But Madame Velines 
many more. She often sends people away. They 
are all people of wealth. And when I tell them 
that on account of the health of Madame she 
hopes they will see Monsieur Velines in her place — 
that is not well received — ‘No,’ they reply, ‘We 
have come to speak to Madame Velines, not to 
another.’ And they prefer to go, without seeing 
any one; Madame is all the fashion.” 

The grandmother darted a glance of wrath at 
the dull but devoted fellow. “How ignorant all 
these people are, Narcisse! Madame Velines is 
very wise, I know, but you must understand that 
her husband, who is learned in Latin and 
Greek, and has studied for fifteen years, and 
travelled all over the world, and argued many 


Her Mind’s Mate 


207 


important cases, knows much, more than she 
does.” 

Certainly ! ’ ’ replied the valet, convinced. ‘ ‘ But 
these people look at it in their own way; 'it is 
Madame they want to see ” 

At dinner, Henriette, with her usual frankness, 
told the number of clients she had received. 
She added, with a mischievous air, ‘‘Ah, if 
I could only divulge their interesting confi- 
dences!” 

Madame Mansart thought the young wife 
utterly unfitted to give advice to all these people. 
She glanced with pride at her grandson, looking 
like a chevalier with his serious forehead and 
dreamy eyes; he seemed intended by nature to 
give wise counsel and to become expert in com- 
plex and intricate problems. Surely he must 
some day be the leader of the Bar. 

“How foolish these Parisians are!” she said to 
herself. “How can they prefer the advice of a 
superficial little girl to that of a man like Andre 
who bears all the marks of distinction? These 
women have so little good sense to seek advice 
from a girl absolutely without experience.” 

The following morning, as Henriette stayed in 
bed for her breakfast, the grandmother received 
Andre alone; and, laughing a little bitterly, she 
said: “Narcisse tells me that all the clients go to 
your wife; and that when he suggests that they 
should consult you, these women prefer to leave 
the house.” 


208 


Love vs. Law 


“Oh/' replied Velines, gaily, “that has only 
happened once or twice.” 

Madame Mansart continued, “I cannot com- 
prehend how Henriette, in such a short time, could 
have gained more reputation than have you.” 

“You must understand. Grandmother, that this 
case of Henriette’ s was new and appealed to the 
sentimental. Every woman in society discussed 
it. The Feministes glory in it. They all like to 
be able to say, ‘ I am just returning from consulting 
my lawyer, Madame Velines.’ They come to 
talk over the merest trifles. In another century, 
when the number of women at the Bar equals the 
number of men, such foolishness will not be 
possible. ” 

“Then, for the profounder legal questions they 
come to you always?” 

The young man laughed, saying, “Of course.” 

However, during the evening, Madame Mansart 
heard the young people enumerating on their 
fingers the visitors received by each during the 
last month. In this singular rivalry the wife 
said to her husband : 

“You see now — ^you see!” And, speaking to 
the grandmother, she said, “Do you know, if 
this continues, I shall be the one to have the 
larger number of clients!” Then, putting her 
arms around Andre, she kissed him full on the 
mouth. 

An angry light shone in the old lady’s eyes. 
She caught her grandson’s glance and said, 


Her Mind’s Mate 


209 


“Perhaps as things are now, I had better get 
Andre a sewing-machine, and let him make the 
baby-clothes, while Henriette argues the cases — ” 


During the first part of January, Velines worked 
hard. The Abel Lacroix case gave him much to 
do. He was thoroughly absorbed in the business 
of the Continental Bank, and he had also to make 
a daily visit to the clever defaulter now in prison. 

Madame Mansart spent her days exploring 
Paris. She spoke every evening about the people 
she had seen. But she did not mention all that 
she had done. Her husband, the Rouen lawyer, 
had many relatives, and she renewed her acquaint- 
ance with them. Henriette did not try to accom- 
pany her, having seen on her first attempt, that 
she was not wanted. Sweet and good-tempered 
as she was she yet understood her grandmother’s 
jealous disposition. At the same time she admired 
her vivacity, respected her pride, and loved her 
for the devoted affection which she gave Andre. 
The dominating spirit of Madame Mansart, she 
knew, would make life under the same roof impos- 
sible, but she was delighted to have her give them 
long visits. During the evenings she listened to 
stories of the childhood of Andre. 

About the eighth of January the newspapers 
were full of the Continental Bank scandal, and 
had a picture of Abel Lacroix, a handsome, dis- 
tinguished-looking man with black hair. 

14 


210 


Love vs. Law 


Henriette found her husband, one morning, 
absorbed in the daily papers. An exaggerated 
account of the scandal was given, and the lawyer 
was mentioned with praise as being the youngest 
member of the Paris Bar. 

“Who could have told all these details?” ex- 
claimed Andre. 

Inwardly he was much gratified at receiving 
any notice from the press. The blood rushed to 
his face. 

“You do not know how this came about?” 
asked Henriette, who had run her eyes over the 
articles. “Grandmother has had this put in.” 

The old lady, questioned, did not attempt to 
deny it. She stood up straight, her chin raised, 
and ready to defy the whole world if she could 
bring the world to her grandson^s feet. Yes, 
of course she had arranged this. What good would 
it do for Andre to try a case well, if it were not 
brought to the attention of Paris? There must 
be a large audience on the day when the case was 
heard. 

Stirred by his grandmother’s ambition, the 
young man proudly put his hand on the enormous 
bundle of papers relating to the Continental Bank 
and said, “I shall not be sorry to have a large 
audience that day for I am sure of my case.” 

Now that his brief was ready he was pleased at 
having the publicity. Henriette, although not 
much pleased with Madame Mansart’s indirect 
methods, was delighted to have her husband given 


Her Mind’s Mate 


2II 


a deserved recognition. So that all three were in 
excellent spirits. Velines urged his grandmother 
to come and hear him, the next morning in court, 
when he had a small case. 

Madame Mansart’s anxiety over his career 
occasionally made him think that perhaps he 
had lost in reputation. But, thank God, that was 
not true. The older men in the Palais all took 
him familiarly by the arm, and the younger men 
treated him with great respect. News had spread 
in the Palais that he would be made a deputy, 
and this added to the respect shown for his 
personality. 

The case of Abel Lacroix had given him dis- 
tinction among the lawyers. A thousand symp- 
toms showed this. He must let his grandmother 
see for herself. The next day the two went out 
together, leaving the young wife, who did not care 
to go to the Palais, where she was annoyed by 
questions as to why she no longer argued cases. 

In the Place Dauphine, a handsome, veiled 
woman, with a conspicuous hat, a fine figure, and 
a velvet coat, passed them on the stairs. A 
strong odour of violet powder accompanied her, 
and Velines with a smile gave her an impressive 
bow. The old lady looked offended and said, 
^‘What, in my company do you recognise a bad 
woman?” 

The young man, diverted, made answer; “You 
are mistaken. Grandmother. This charming wo- 
man is a member of the Bar. You will some- 


212 


Love vs. Law 


time hear her plead before the Court — Isabelle 
Geronce.” 

“Ah!’’ demanded Madame Mansart, “and do 
all the women-lawyers dress so magnificently?’’ 

“But, Grandmother, the women-lawyers dress 
as they please. You need not think that a special 
type exists. My dear Henriette is the model that 
I most admire, but we have respectable elderly 
women, and nice young girls, such as Louise 
Pemette, the rival of Madame Geronce. ” Then, 
in a low voice, for at this hour the stairway was 
crowded with lawyers, he told the sad little ro- 
mance of Louise Pemette, her first passionate 
love for Maurice, and his for her, their many 
meetings in the Galerie Saint-Louis, the im- 
possibility of their marriage on account of their 
poverty, and the beauty of this charming idyl, 
one which even the older severer masters of the 
Bar had smiled sympathetically at. Then he 
said the handsome Geronce had taken a fancy to 
the youth, whose talents already marked him for 
a brilliant career. It was not difficult to get away 
Louise’s lover. She had no arts, only a gentle 
half-ethereal tenderness — while the beautiful 
Geronce 1 

Then his grandmother intermpted, indignantly, 
“Has she lost him forever? What a foolish boy. 
And what will become of the poor child?” 

“She refused to see this flirtation for a long 
time,” explained Andre, “believing that it would 
be impossible for Servais to deceive her. But 


Her Mind’s Mate 


213 


now, when every one notices it and talks of it, 
she has determined, without a complaint or a 
word of reproach, quietly and silently to leave 
Paris. ” 

A purple dress brushed by them and stopped. 
It was Mademoiselle Angely, who called out, 
from the Galerie Due, ‘‘Good morning, dear 
Velines. How is our little Henriette?” 

The two women were introduced. The younger 
woman, when the grandmother’s name was men- 
tioned, laimched out into praises of Henriette. 
What a triumph the Marty case had been ! What 
a revelation of a woman’s power over the judges! 
These men themselves had to acknowledge the 
wonderful talent of the little Velines. 

Then Mademoiselle added, “Ah, Madame, you 
ought to be proud of your granddaughter-in- 
law!’’ She finished by explaining that she was 
looking for Fabrezan. When she turned away 
Madame Mansart reflected: 

“So it is to her that the men go for lessons in 
law!” 

They entered the dressing-room, already 
crowded. There were long pine closets, and the 
youngest law-students and the distinguished older 
lawyers all stood on equal terms of intimacy with 
the man who assisted them with their legal robes. 
Here were to be seen the ends of braces, the 
secrets of false collars, and the quality of the linen. 
Temisien, in his theatrical voice, asked for a 
piece of pumice-stone. 


214 


Love vs. Law 


Velines, while putting on his gown, greeted many 
friends, who also spoke to the old lady. All 
asked for Henriette and spoke of her recent suc- 
cess. Over and over the same phrase was used. 
“Will Madame Velines soon argue a case again?” 

Andre’s case came in the Sixth Court. At the 
close of it he had a hurried talk with President 
Erambourg, whose thin cadaverous figure looked 
corpse-like on this January afternoon. Seated 
motionless in his arm-chair, he asked, in his sepul- 
chral voice, “Ah, Master, is it you who present 
the defence?” 

“Yes, Your Honor.” 

“I expected to hear Madame Velines.” 

“Your Honor, Madame Velines, who argued the 
case first, is too tired to appear; and I shall take 
her place.” 

“That is excellent,” said the old man, with a 
ghastly smile at the four judges on his right and 
left. “The Court would regret it deeply if any 
one but you had replaced her. ” 

In the audience a little dry cough was heard. 
Andre, while speaking recognised the impatience 
of his grandmother. 

When the case which he was defending ended he 
found that he had lost it; and Madame Mansart 
said to him, with an air of irritation, “My dear, 
the Palais rings with the name of your wife.” 

“And what of that?” responded Velines, pre- 
tending indifference. “ It only proves that we are 
chivalrous here.” 


Her Mind’s Mate 


215 


But he was annoyed, and felt an unconscious 
desire that Henriette should lose a little of her 
reputation. He only said, “Henriette has such 
charm, Grandmother, that she has brought the 
whole legal world to her feet. It is a success such 
as only a woman could have. You cannot imagine 
how she is loved. Her little triumphs are even 
more dear to me than my own.” 

“You, my son,” replied the old lady, “have far 
more talent. You did nobly on this case.” He 
felt better. The noise of the crowd leaving the 
Palais struck upon their ears as they reached 
the Salle des Pas Perdus. The procession of the 
whole Bar, which Madame Mansart had seen 
fourteen months before, was tramping along the 
white flag-stones, where the black arabesques 
seemed to suggest the mysterious plan of some 
unknown architect. Velines almost cried out 
with ambition, as he watched the procession, 
“Oh, to stand out among the crowd of lawyers! 
To lift my head above the level of mediocrity!” 

Then he thought of the Lacroix case, which, 
during a series of animated sittings at court, had 
revealed one of the strangest scandals of the age. 

“ Madame Mansart, I present my compliments.” 

They turned to find Fabrezan-Castagnac, : who, 
since the marriage, had been very friendly with 
the lady frorn Rouen, so original and quaint. 
There passed between these two old people, one 
quite as irritable as the other, some clever badi- 
nage. “Only, Madame,” he said, gallantly, mak- 


2I6 


Love vs. Law 


ing a low bow, “you come too late, too late. 
You should have arrived two months ago and seen 
your granddaughter covered with glory, just 
before this long silence, the prelude to her mater- 
nity. Ah, Velines, you must be proud of your 
little wife. In truth, Madame, putting all flattery 
aside, the child is remarkable. She gave me some 
blows from which I have not yet recovered.” 

“Oh, Monsieur Fabrezan, you exaggerate,” 
returned the grandmother. 

Velines laughed without speaking. At last he 
inquired of Fabrezan if Mademoiselle Angely had 
succeeded in seeing him. Immediately Fabrezan 
remembered that she was waiting for him in his 
office. “Heaven forgive me,” he burst out, “I 
had forgotten her ! ” Then he left with the majes- 
tic step of a man to whom thirty years of success 
has brought great content. 

Velines and his grandmother did not speak 
for a few moments. They were both conscious 
of a feeling of irritation. Finally Andre said, “I 
must see Blondel, the old President. He argues 
for the other side in my case next week; I must 
persuade him to give me some information, and 
we must have a meeting.” 

He soon perceived the little old man, with the 
pointed beard and white whiskers coming out 
of the First Court. He was one of the most 
famous among the older lawyers, and was named 
“ The Invincible. ” He was analytic and subtle, 
only half expressing his most forcible arguments. 


Her Mind’s Mate 


217 


but giving his hearers the acute intellectual 
pleasure of perceiving for themselves their hidden 
meaning. Velines, delighted with his great adver- 
sary’s friendliness, praised him warmly to Madame 
Mansart. 

Blondel was far cleverer than this handsome 
youth from Normandy. His pale blue eyes were 
very shrewd. He grasped Andre’s hand saying, 
“How are you, my colleague?” 

“My grandmother, almost my mother,” said 
the young man, while Blondel bowed to Madame 
Mansart. 

They quickly arranged a meeting for the after- 
noon, and as they parted the famous lawyer said, 
“Present my compliments to Madame Velines, 
and tell her that I admire her very much. If 
there were more like hqr, I would be glad to see 
women members of the Bar.” 

As they went towards the dressing-room, where 
Velines left his gown, they saw rising in the Gal- 
erie Due the helmet of one of the old guards of 
the Palais, who, seated there, had been quietly 
looking on. He greeted Andre respectfully: “Ex- 
cuse me. Monsieur Velines! I want to in- 
quire about the health of your wife. We have 
not seen her here for a long time, and she never 
forgot to wish me good-moming. Every day 
people come here to ask in which court room they 
can hear the famous woman-lawyer whom every 
one is talking of. ” 

On Velines’s face a slight shadow gathered. 


2I8 


Love vs. Law 


He replied, ‘‘Say that she will not be here for a 
long time, that she is ill.” 

Madame Mansart and Andre returned to the 
house in silence. 


Mademoiselle Angely waited for the President, 
during half an hour. At last he arrived in his 
office, which was too small for a secretary, and 
which his large gown completely filled when there 
came a breath of wind. 

“My impatient friend, what excuse can I give 
you?” 

“No matter about excuses if you will only 
listen to me,” retorted this determined woman 
who had the moral strength which comes from 
working for a noble and impersonal ideal. 

Fabrezan, seated at his little desk in the shadow 
near the window, where his fine face showed 
distinctly, remarked humorously, while pushing 
back his huge sleeves and showing his glistening 
white cuffs, “I know your business. The superin- 
tendent at Ablon has presented his bill for the 
year, or the butcher refuses to get you meat. 
You need, to be perfectly happy, fifty thousand 
francs, and you have come to beg ten louis to 
complete the reform of your hundred and sixty- 
five pupils. ” 

With the scepticism of his sixty years he did 
not believe much in the Utopian ideals of this 
lawyer. Yet he was one of her most generous 


Her Mind’s Mate 


219 


subscribers, finding it easier to open his pocket- 
book than to hurt the feelings of one of his best 
friends. 

I gladly accept the ten louis, ” answered Made- 
moiselle gravely, “but I came about something 
else. There is, Fabrezan, a scandal among the 
members of the Bar, and I believe that you ought 
not to shut your eyes to it any longer.” 

“A scandal!” echoed Fabrezan, incredulously. 

Mademoiselle told him the idyl of Louise 
Pemette, and of the liaison between Maurice 
Servais and the beautiful Geronce which was 
now the scandal of the Palais. 

“Servais is twenty-five, and Isabelle Geronce 
is a great flirt. She determined to draw him away 
from Louise, and I wish to bring him back. Louise 
is in great grief. You must help me, Fabrezan, 
you can use your authority as President of the 
Bar. You can dwell on the necessity for thinking 
of the proprieties, you can speak of the honour of 
the Bar, and you can remonstrate with Servais. ” 

“Do you think that I should interfere in an 
affair of this kind? Do you fancy that this is 
my business? No, indeed I shall not, Made- 
moiselle Angely!” 

She interrupted him without losing her temper, 
“Listen to me, Fabrezan!” 

He added hotly, “Am I to have charge of the 
love affairs of Servais?” 

“The President is supposed, my dear friend, 
to interest himself in the future careers of his 


220 


Love vs. Law 


law-students. I have heard it said that no stu- 
dent should arrange a contract of marriage with- 
out the consent of the President of the Bar. 
The scandal of which I speak goes on in the 
Palais, within the jurisdiction of the Bar. 

The President looked pale and angry; again he 
rolled up his sleeves. ^‘Yes! we ought to have 
expected these very things to occur when we 
admitted women to the Bar. That is what 
makes me indignant. Our association has existed 
for years, and has passed through stormy 
periods with the dignity of an association of men. 
We are an ancient and most distinguished society, 
and we have never had a breath of scandal touch 
us. And now, because we have unwillingly ad- 
mitted amongst us a group of Feministes, who have 
taken our costumes and joined our ranks, we must 
meet these new difficulties. Soon we shall un- 
doubtedly see our colleagues with chignons under 
their toques, and then all the virility of our order 
will be gone. Trouble is beginning, I see it 
ahead!” 

‘'Fabrezan! Fabrezan! You forget with whom 
you are talking.” 

‘‘No, my excellent Angely. I am not speaking 
about you, for you are less a lawyer than a saint. 
A Saint Vincent de Paul in skirts. Whatever your 
profession had been, even selling chiffons, you 
would still have accomplished miracles of charity. 
You would burst through prison bars to save poor 
orphans. I am talking of those women who 


Her Mind’s Mate 


221 


are like this miserable Geronce, and who come here 
simply to flirt with our law-students, making a 
pretence of loving the study of law. Who can 
tell whether intellectual women of somewhat 
advanced views as to sex, do not deliberately 
choose a profession where they can easily form 
friendships — or liaisons — with the cleverest young 
men in our Parisian society?’’ 

Mademoiselle Angely lifted her head, proudly. 
“Women like Geronce are not often found at the 
Bar. Mental work usually gives women dignity 
and makes them serious. Those women who 
have been admitted to the Bar, far from lowering 
its standards have raised them, by their unselfish 
work for the oppressed.” 

At this remark, Fabrezan again broke in angrily : 
“What are you saying? Do you dare assert that 
the Bar waited for you women before it showed 
evidence of its generosity, of its charity, and of 
its devotion to the oppressed? I admit that there 
are some miserable specimens amongst us, a few 
black sheep and many who possess only mediocre 
ability, but you must grant that when any great 
civil work is needed, work that is absolutely 
disinterested, it is we lawyers who are called on 
to undertake it. And we have always responded 
to the call, ever since the time De Seze dishonoured 
the Convention, or when young Berryer assisted 
Marshal Ney, even to the present day, when the 
first-year law-student puts his whole soul into an 
argument to defend an old vagabond picked up 


222 


Love vs. Law 


in the gutter. Neither public authority nor 
political trickery has been able to prevent us 
from defending any unfortunate man that called 
on us. And now, after all this, you women come 
here and wish to teach us pity and love. If they 
were all like you ” 

Mademoiselle Angely was a little disturbed by 
Fabrezan’s words, but she soon recovered herself, 
saying: “You despise women-lawyers, but you 
forget that you found it serious business to argue 
a case against one, the other day. You are 
generous enough to grant that; if all of us were 
like the little Velines ” 

“Yes! Yes! She is magnificent. But I doubt 
whether it will be best for her to continue her 
practice now that she is married. It is not good 
for a woman to have so much success, when she 
and her husband are working at the same profes- 
sion. Of course, Velines has the stronger mind; 
nevertheless, since her star has risen, he is over- 
shadowed by her. The talent of a woman always 
attracts more attention than that of a man. 
This is dangerous for a young married couple. I 
saw Velines, a few months ago, and I was vexed 
to perceive that he was not pleased when I compli- 
mented his wife.” 

“Nonsense! These young people adore each 
other. Do not suggest any rivalry! Now what 
have you to complain o^ in Madame Martinal?” 

“For women like her, I would certainly make 
exceptions. All doors should be opened to the 


Her Mind’s Mate 


223 


abandoned wife, and to the widow, burdened with 
children, who has to be both a mother and a 
father to her little ones. ” 

“But, Fabrezan, in order that widows and 
abandoned wives should have a chance to earn 
their living honestly, young girls must study the 
profession from which you would keep them.” 

“I grant this, my good friend, but while we are 
on the point, will you kindly tell me why we have, 
at the Bar, married women with rich husbands?” 

For a moment Mademoiselle Angely was silent. 
She thought of the miseries of the juvenile crimi- 
nals and their need of counsel. “They do some 
good, perhaps,” she ventured firmly. 

“You are a saint,” replied the President, whose 
nervous irritability had been quieted by her calm 
manner. “Give me your hand that I may kiss 
it; and go on creating disciples after your own 
image!” 

“Will you send Servais back to Pemette?” 
anxiously asked Angely. Fabrezan, standing be- 
fore her, looked at her with admiration; his large 
face wore a kindly smile. With an affectionate 
friendliness, he demanded — all his good humour 
having returned — “Do I ever disobey your in- 
structions?” 


Andre Velines ended a long busy day. He had 
seen Abel Lacroix at the Sante prison ; for the last 
week this shrewd villain had discussed with his 


224 


Love vs. Law 


attorney all possible ways of construing 'the law. 
Both men knew the code thoroughly, and had an 
unusual knowledge of the law as it was 
written in books. They were skilful in 
deducing all sorts of ingenious conclusions, and, 
when together, they were more like two lawyers 
than like client and coimsel. Sometimes it even 
seemed as though Velines had the more respectful 
manner. 

After having discussed his case with this noto- 
rious bank defaulter for two hours, Andre took a 
cab and drove hurriedly down the right side of the 
river to see Blondel. In his impatience he re- 
gretted the fact that he had listened to Henriette’s 
advice, and given up purchasing an automobile. 
On this particular evening he felt vexed with his 
wife’s economy. The cab was old and rattled 
over the rough pavements, and he thought that it 
was beneath his dignity to have to make use of 
such a wretched means of locomotion. 

At dinner, Andre was silent, and Henriette 
thought him absorbed in the Abel Lacroix case. 
She looked at him affectionately, without worrying 
him with questions. Neither Velines nor his 
grandmother repeated the praises which they had 
heard lavished on her in the Palais that afternoon. 
There seemed to be a tacit understanding between 
them upon this point. 

That evening, after Madame Mansart had left 
them, Andre went into his library to work, while 
Henriette slowly undressed in her own room. She 


Her Mind’s Mate 


225 


felt unusually happy, and thought over all her 
joys, dreaming of her futiure child, thinking of 
her husband’s love, and congratulating herself 
on her growing fame. Her Hfe was full of varied 
interests, and she thought with pride of all the 
fashionable women who had consulted her that 
day. She held the role of a confessor, correcting, 
guiding, and advising them, not only in financial 
embarrassments but in all sorts of small legal 
matters, as well as in their matrimonial difficulties. 
Her pleasant thoughts delayed her preparations 
for bed, and it was not imtil midnight that she 
finally finished brushing her beautiful hair. Then 
she thought of Andre, working alone at this late 
hour, and the idea occurred to her to find her 
slippers and put on a wrapper over her night- 
gown, and go and find him. She started, humming 
a gay little song, but when she reached the hall 
hung with old prints, she stopped singing, and the 
whole expression of her face suddenly changed. 

Velines was seated on an oak bench, near a 
table whereon lay the illustrated journals with the 
pictures of Henriette. He supported his fore- 
head with his hand. In one of the comers of the 
room hung an electric light; it was not brilliant 
enough to light the whole room, but it showed 
the glasses over the pastels; and the old gold of 
the antique picture-frames ; and the water- 
colour landscapes looked like little squares of grey 
surrounded by white. In the half-light Andre’s 
bowed head could be seen distinctly. His expres- 

J5 


226 


Love vs. Law 


sion was tragic; he looked like a man facing a 
great moral crisis. 

''Andre, Andre, what is the matter?” cried 
Henriette, running toward him. 

Then Andre, after raising his eyes, saw his wife, 
and his face changed. She stood before him and 
threw her arms round his neck, anxiously ques- 
tioning him, fearing some physical illness. Little 
by little the nearness of her body, and, still more, 
the sentiment of friendship which held this young 
married couple together, asserted their control 
and brought Andre nearer to his wife in spirit. 
His face softened as he looked at Henriette. She 
soothed him and quieted him. He seemed like a 
man who had been shaken by a great storm of 
emotion, but was now recovering his normal 
attitude toward life. 

"What is it?” demanded Henriette, more and 
more passionately. 

But all he would reply was, "I do not know, I 
do not know. I felt horribly depressed.” 

In fact, the spasm of rage, suspicion, and jealousy 
against his wife, which had overwhelmed him that 
evening, had now passed away, leaving only a 
vague memory and an acute feeling of shame. 
He saw, as if for the first time, this gentle, child- 
like creature, with whom it was impossible to 
associate a masculine brain. With her hair 
arranged simply for the night, and with her loose 
white gown, she looked fragile and appealing. 

"Oh, my wife! My dear wife!” 


Her Mind’s Mate 


227 


But Henriette wished an explanation. ^^What 
had happened? Why was he so depressed? Had 
some one caused him anxiety?” 

At length he confessed. “I do not understand 
myself. I had some strange thoughts. I even 
fancied that since your success you did not love 
me. I was in agony lest I should lose your love. ” 

She gently chided him for his lack of faith in 
her love, burying her face in his breast. What 
had given him these wicked ideas? Was she a 
frivolous doll-like woman who could ever lose her 
love for him? Then, feeling her body trembling 
against him, and shaken with sobs, he felt a sense 
of deep remorse for having judged her so harshly, 
only a few hours before. 

“Oh, I have suffered,” he said. Then he 
pointed to the illustrated journals which showed 
him the audience present at the Marty trial. 
In his anger he had looked again over these jour- 
nals which told of his wife’s success. Again he 
whispered, “Perhaps it was true after all, and 
to-day when all Paris loves you, my love means 
less.” 

Then in intense excitement he added, “Pro- 
mise me — Oh, promise this, that you will love me 
always!” 

Henriette was amazed to see her husband, 
usually so strong and self-controlled, overcome 
by his feelings in this way. 

“But, my dearest, I have told you a hundred 
times, that the greatest joy I have in my success 


228 


Love 7/5. Law 


is that it gratifies you. I cannot separate any 
event in my life from you. It is for you that I 
enjoy my little triumphs, and I love you even 
more, since in the exercise of my profession I have 
enlarged my life. ” 

She looked at him, her eyes wet with tears. 
This strange mood of his showed her a new side of 
her husband, and she felt a new tenderness for 
him. 

‘‘Yes, yes, I have been unjust to you, Henriette. 
Forget it all! It is only a passing mood. I love 
you so much.’^ 

Then Andre felt afresh all the sweetness of his 
wife’s spirit and nature, and the loveliness of her 
fair young body. He embraced her with an almost 
religious tenderness, utterly ashamed of his own 
petty feelings of jealousy. 


The trial of the directors of the Continental 
Bank lasted three weeks, and attracted the inter- 
est of all Paris. Madame Mansart prolonged her 
visit until after the judges’ decision. At the same 
time that this case was on trial, Andre had others. 
Madame Mansart noticed Andre’s absorption in 
his work, and that he studied late into the night, 
taking the utmost pains with his briefs. 

His grandmother was alarmed at his look of 
fatigue ; and, one evening at dinner, said that she 
was afraid he would be ill if he continued to work 
so hard. 


Her Mind’s Mate 


229 


I have so many cases,” said Valines, “per- 
haps I should have a secretary.” 

“You have one already,” replied the old lady. 
“In a household like yours that duty certainly 
should be your wife’s. She would be an ideal 
secretary.” 

“If she wished it,” replied Andre, looking at 
Henriette. 

The yoimg wife seemed astonished, then became 
very red, and replied in a constrained voice, 
“Andre’s secretary! How then about all my own 
business! I would have no more business of my 
own, no more independent existence at the Palais. 
I would be nothing of myself, only as a subordi- 
nate of Andre’s, wholly occupied with assisting 
him in his work. ” 

For the last few weeks the presence of the old 
lady had irritated Henriette — an irritation usually 
felt by every young wife, when her husband’s 
relatives occupy the spare room too long at one 
time. However, this was the first open quarrel 
between them. Henriette turned to her husband, 
imploring him with her eyes to come to the defence 
of her individuality and her liberty, and asking 
him to side with her against the despotism of age. 

But Velines, more wounded by this sign of 
insubordination than he could express, replied: 
“Then you would not be contented to assist me 
in making my way, to share my work, to col- 
laborate with me?” 

“If I were free, dearest, you know that I would 


230 


Love vs. Law 


like nothing better. But I have my own career to 
make, and I desire to follow it to the end. I 
would not think you would wish me to give up a 
profession in which I am now succeeding — at 
least fairly well. 

“If Andre has too many cases, let him transfer 
them to me. I shall be ready to try them after 
my baby is bom ; only he must assign them wholly 
to me, not as to a secretary to whom you give the 
drudgery of your work, but as to a friend who 
takes the case for himself. I can do something 
better than be only my husband’s assistant.” 
This speech was addressed to the grandmother, 
whose state of mind was now all at once made 
clear to her. But Andre, who privately approved 
the old lady’s sentiments, took his wife’s word 
as an insult to himself. His white face con- 
tracted and showed indignation. 

He made no reply, however ; and again Henriette, 
with her strong faith in the equality of her sex 
and in her husband’s sense of justice, said: “I am 
very busy, myself, but I have not thought of 
suggesting that Andre should be my secretary. 
Why should I sacrifice myself to him any more 
than he should to me?” 

“She is right,” declared the young man, but 
he did not speak again during the meal ; and later, 
every time that Henriette tried to re-open the 
subject, her husband stopped her, saying: “No! 
do not speak of this conversation, again! My 
grandmother has been foolish ; she is an old woman. 


Her Mind’s Mate 


231 


You spoke cross words and hurt my feelings. The 
memory is unpleasant. Let us forget it. ” 

Nevertheless, he did not forget the incident. 
Henriette knew this for she often saw upon his pale 
face an expression of sullen sorrow — the same stern 
expression which she had noticed first, that evening. 

The journals at this time were full of the name of 
Andre Velines. The arguments in the trial drew 
a crowd of curious people, so that the doors of 
the court room had to be carefully guarded, and 
the heat was stifling even in February. The 
personality of the defaulter was the chief attrac- 
tion. Sitting in the criminal dock, with his 
fine figure and his air of distinction, he spoke to 
the judges on terms of equality. They treated 
him with courtesy, and the cross-examination 
seemed more like a conversation. The Chief 
Justice, as well as Velines, recognised the man’s 
superiority to the ordinary defaulter. On the 
walls, covered with blue tapestry, golden bees 
dazzled the eyes. The wainscotting of the room 
was oak, and through the large window the 
exquisite pinnacles of Sainte Chapelle pointed 
heavenward. 

Blondel, who was Andre’s opponent, made a 
strong argument; but the argument of Velines, 
which lasted through two sessions and was admir- 
able in its ingenuity and audacity, made an im- 
pression which was remembered for years in the 
Palais: ‘‘Gentlemen, this very honest man whom 
you see before you ” 


232 


Love vs. Law 


Velines had put all his intellectual strength into 
his argument and his success was one of the 
greatest satisfactions of his professional life. Abel 
Lacroix was acquitted although it was well known 
that he had embezzled eight hundred thousand 
francs from his creditors. After the case was de- 
cided, Andre made his way through the crowd, 
looking very pale, but full of pride in his triumph. 
For once his enormous ambition was satisfied. The 
whole immense Palais echoed with praise of his 
argument. He had won the unwilling admiration 
of the entire Bar. He rejoiced in his deserved 
success, and felt like a victorious general, who 
receives proudly the submission of conquered 
princes. 

As he was leaving the Palais, however, he heard 
a well-dressed woman, who did not see him, ask 
a friend, “Who was the counsel?” 

And the friend replied, “The husband of 
Madame Velines. ” 


CHAPTER IX 


A child’s dilemma 

M adame MARTY’S coupe stopped before 
one of the largest houses on the Boulevard 
de la Madeleine, and stood there until the little 
boy who had left it, had disappeared within the 
doorway. Before closing the gate, the child 
leaned forward, gracefully lifting his hat, and then 
entered the elevator. 

Following the English fashion Marcel Alem- 
bert wore no stockings; with his bare legs, his 
large white collar, his thick chestnut hair, and 
his small cap, he looked very unlike most French 
children. At a door on the third floor he rang. 
His father, as if by chance, opened it him- 
self; and they embraced quietly as if they had 
seen each other the previous day. Marcel hung 
up his cap and took off his overcoat. Watching 
him, partly concealed by the dim light of the hall, 
Alembert noticed every action. 

^‘What shall we do to-day?” asked the father. 
Marcel appeared bored, like a child on a visit, 
but said with a polite smile, ‘‘Whatever you wish. 
Papa. ” They entered the parlour. Marcel opened 
the curtains, half mechanically, and looked out on 
233 


234 


Love vs. Law 


the street. Alembert questioned him about his 
lessons, asked him about the old servant Anna, 
and tried to find out how he had spent his time 
during the last fortnight. ^‘Did Anna come with 
you to-day?” ^ 

“No,” replied Marcel. 

He never mentioned his mother here. Under- 
standing very dimly the disagreement of his par- 
ents he was too sensitive to ask any questions 
concerning it. For some reason they had sepa- 
rated. He was not the one to judge them. By a 
chivalrous instinct he took his mother’s part, and 
sometimes he even doubted whether he ought to 
love the young and affectionate father who made 
such an idol of him. It was almost pathetic to 
see the efforts of the father to please his son, and 
the son’s constraint during these brief fortnightly 
interviews. 

At four o’clock “Tea” was served on a table 
covered with delicacies. Marcel, with the usual 
large appetite of a child of twelve, ate in silence. 
His father said : ‘ ‘ Help yourself ! See ! This came 
from across the river! I went to choose it myself 
this morning; and this I found in the Avenue de 
L’ Opera. 

“Thanks, Papa!” 

There were also some fragrant fresh flowers. 
The father did not mention their price. They 
were an example of his sentimental folly and were 
bought by an unhappy man who had to satisfy 
himself with trifling pleasures. 


A Child’s Dilemma 


235 


Made less self-conscious by eating, Marcel be- 
came more talkative, and went into the parlour 
to look at the magazines. One of the pictures 
recalled a visit to the circus, and he told what he 
had seen. Pie laughed heartily over the jokes of 
the clown, and Alembert listened eagerly to his 
idlest word, perfectly happy to have him near 
again. 

Suddenly an illustration in one magazine caught 
the boy’s attention, and he exclaimed, in surprise, 
^‘Ah! Mamma’s friend!” 

The magazine was four months old, and showed 
Madame Velines arguing in the Supreme Court. 
In the comer of the court room could be seen the 
hats of the women, and Henriette before the 
Bar. Hastily, Alembert looked at the pictures. 
His son became very red, and both regretted 
the incident. The boy knew enough about the 
celebrated trial to realise that the judges were 
disputing over his poor little self. He closed the 
leaves of the magazine, and Alembert walked to 
the other side of the room without speaking. 
Marcel regretted his careless words, felt imcom- 
fortable, and said, *‘I know a new piano-piece. 
Would you like to hear me play it. Papa?” 

The night was coming on, so the lamps were 
lighted, and Alembert seated himself at one side 
of the room, while the child played the piano. 
He was pretty and graceful. His features were 
like his father’s. His large hands showed that 
some day he wotdd be a tall man. His mother 


236 


Love vs. Law 


thus far had been his only teacher, but he had 
unusual skill and love for music. Alembert 
watched him, recognising the simple sonata which 
Suzanne used sometimes to play to him, in the 
evening. With a light touch which made one 
think of a clavichord, Marcel struck the notes; 
the melody was full of memories. The noise of 
the clock sounding five mingled sadly with the 
music. The gloomy man sighed deeply, as he 
watched the beautiful little face illuminated by 
the lamp. “Very well played, my dear!” he 
said, when the piece was finished. “Your mother 
often played that to me.” 

Marcel, with his heart suddenly oppressed, 
turned away, and at this one sentence, the misery 
of his wretched childhood came over him. Both 
tried not to show their emotion but it was sometime 
before they could speak. They were waiting 
for the maid, Anna, who came at six o’clock. 
When the bell rang the father opened his arms, 
Marcel threw himself into them, and whispered 
very low, “Poor Papa!” 

And for two years, on the first and third Thurs- 
days of each month, the interviews between the 
father and the son had been much like this. 


With March the new trial was to come — the 
trial over the wise little boy who learned his 
lessons quietly every morning in the peaceful 
apartment in Passy. The trial was to be at the 


A Child’s Dilemma 


237 


end of Lent. The engineer, tired of the struggle, 
was hopeless over the result; but Fabrezan en- 
couraged him; and the mother, anxious and ner^ 
vous because Velines was to try the case, in place 
of his wife, went almost daily to his house, each 
time offering a new argument. 

While these adversaries were struggling together 
with their eyes fixed on this child, another signi- 
ficant drama was being played in the home of 
Henriette and Andre. Madame Marty at Velines’s 
house, had uttered some foolish words, in reference 
to the young wife’s state of health. ^‘My dear, 
you are so well that nothing should prevent you 
from taking this case again. Why do you not 
argue it yourself?” 

Henriette excused herself, speaking of her 
nervous condition and the excitement which she 
always felt when trying a case. Andre had smiled 
at this, but suddenly he felt a pang of jealousy. 
He saw the deep regret which Madame Marty 
felt that Henriette could not try her case. He 
felt indignant with her. Then he determined to 
surpass himself in this trial. 

Every night he worked late with feverish ac- 
tivity. At times he looked at Henriette coldly, 
and tried to judge her as if she were not his wife. 
He discovered various small faults in her, espe- 
cially a great self-confidence which displeased him. 
She wished to give him the notes of the first trial, 
but he declined them. Indeed, in order to have 
his arguments different from his wife’s, he refused 


238 


Love vs. Law 


to take up these points in the discussion which had 
been used by his wife. Undoubtedly he argued 
the case with dignity, and brought much learning 
to his brief; but he rashly discussed the Feministe 
principle, which gave the children to the mother 
in all cases of divorce. 

The public were not admitted to the trial, but 
all the lawyers were there, and eagerly discussing 
the memorable arguments of Madame Velines. 
Listening to the husband, they thought only of 
the wife. Andre’s arguments had excellent liter- 
ary style, and were full of ingenuity. Fabrezan’s 
arguments showed more imagination, and had more 
illustrations. He made a great impression on the 
women. The room where the Supreme Coirrt held 
its session was large, and was decorated with gold. 
It was in this same room that Henriette had been 
admitted to the Bar. Who would have thought 
then, that this unknown young girl would so soon 
become famous? Thus, while listening to the 
husband, the lawyers discussed Henriette. Her 
success had made a great impression on them. 

The decision was not announced until the 
eighth. Most of the lawyers were present to 
hear it. There was silence and great astonishment 
when the Chief Justice announced that the opin- 
ion of the previous Court was annulled, and the 
young Alembert would now be given into his 
father’s care, while his mother could see him every 
week, either at his home, or in his school, or he 
could visit her. 


A Child's Dilemma 


239 


Velines grew very white. All the young law- 
students watched him curiously; then he gathered 
himself together, and shook hands with a few 
people as he left the room, saying that he could 
only think of the terrible blow which this would 
be to his client. 

Henriette met him at the door of the little 
white parlour in his own home. 

‘‘It is over, and I have lost,'' he announced, 
quietly. 

She could not believe it. She said nothing. 
Her eyes looked sadly out into the distance; and 
Andre asked himself, “What is she thinking about? 
Is she comparing her argument with mine?" 

“My poor dear,” she said, presently, “I am so 
sorry for you. ” 

“For me?" he exclaimed. “For me? Is a 
lawyer blamed for losing a case?" 

Then he tried to seem cheerful, and to prepare 
himself to tell the wretched mother of her new 
misfortune. 

Henriette delicately offered to do this for him. 
Velines had two or three plans to discuss. He was 
calm and self-contained as usual, and ate his 
dinner with an excellent appetite. Henriette 
returned from Madame Marty, worn out with her 
interview. Suzanne had thought of nothing but of 
seizing her child and carrying him away with her; 
Andre said that she would have to accept the 
decision of the Court, as other mothers had ac- 
cepted it, in cases of the same kind. 


240 


Love vs. Law 


In spite of Andre’s apparent indifference to the 
losing of his case, that same evening Henriette 
heard a noise in his study, and rushing there in 
haste, found the writing-table broken in pieces, 
the ink flowing over the carpet, and the leaves of 
his brief scattered in every direction. 

“What has happened, my dear?” she asked, 
in great excitement. 

Then Andre explained by saying that in try- 
ing to open a drawer in his desk, his sleeve had 
caught the knob of the drawer, and had upset 
the desk and the ink. 

Henriette rang for the maid to put the room in 
order, and was distressed over the ink-spots on 
the carpet; but she observed that her husband 
was very pale and still trembled. His excited 
breathing could be heard in the next room. 

After this, Velines suffered a thousand little 
wounds to his vanity. They came to him in the 
street, and in the Palais; and when his fellow- 
lawyers enquired after his wife, he always felt 
that they intended a hidden allusion to his defeat. 
He had to give a long account of the case to his 
father-in-law at the Sunday family dinner, for 
President Marcadieu wished all the details. 

The young lawyer’s disappointment was so 
keen, and he suffered so constantly from it, that 
he tried in every way to And a remedy. Even 
the presence of Henriette annoyed him and re- 
called his defeat. When she talked about their 
profession she irritated him; and when she dis- 


A Child’s Dilemma 


241 


cussed her clients he thought her conceited. 
Nervously tired and depressed he felt the need of 
an immediate change of scene; and his grand- 
mother invited him to go to Rouen, for his Easter 
vacation. Henriette consulted her doctor, but 
he forbade her travelling so far. So Velines 
started alone. 


CHAPTER X 


THE MALE S EGOISM 


HE excitement of the journey altered the 



1 current of Velines’s thoughts. He welcomed 
the first signs of the Normandy landscape, already 
beginning to show the delicate greens of early 
spring. His recent life seemed only a dream, and 
he lived again in his happy boyhood, before body 
and soul had been absorbed by Paris. In the 
distance was the Valley of Ardelle, where the hill 
called “Des Deux-Amants, ” rose like a grey 
pyramid. This name — “Des Deux-Amants — 
and this landscape with its romantic legend, 
recalled to him the fresh impressions of his first 
youth. Recollections of his graduation from the 
high school, his lofty ambitions, and his idealistic 
conception of love all rushed upon him. How 
he had longed to worship a woman, to win her 
love, and to have his life a perfect idyl! 

“And now I am married, ” he thought; and then 
the image of Henriette came into his mind, and 
he felt his heart beat a little more quickly. 

Shadows crept slowly over the hills, and he 
looked at his watch to find that in ten minutes he 


243 


The Male’s Egoism 

would arrive at Rouen. Suddenly the railroad 
skirted the Seine, and the rippling silver waters 
of the river reflected the green flelds. 

Mountains could be seen on the opposite side; 
below, the water reflected little points of light; 
then a long line of lights became visible — ^yes, this 
was Rouen, with its wharves, its bridges, its 
islands, and its ribbon-like winding river, which 
could be seen miles away. It was surely a beauti- 
ful, homelike, provincial city, but it seemed a 
little contracted, after Paris. 

“Rouen!” At the very sound of the name a 
crowd of memories awoke in Andre. He was 
strangely susceptible to those half-melancholy 
moods which most of us feel in re-visiting 
our childhood's home. When the railway train 
stopped on the Pont aux Anglais, the city arose, 
looking dark and shadowy as if placed in a deep 
ravine on the edge of an inky lake. The delicate 
spires of the cathedral brought a smile of pleasure 
to Andre. It looked wonderfully graceful and 
friendly to the young provincial, who had been 
gazing for fifteen years at the Eiffel Tower. 

Soon he had a succession of the usual emotions 
— the arrival of the train, the sight of his grand- 
mother, with her face framed by the window of 
the railway station, and the annoyance of finding 
his luggage. Then, finally, the pleasant drive 
beside the old lady as they slowly wound through 
the lively Faubourg, passing the fragrant gardens 
and silent lanes, to the great amphitheatre. There 


244 Love vs. Law 

he had grown up, passionately loved by this un- 
demonstrative, energetic old lady who had con- 
stantly stirred his imagination by describing his 
future career. When he recognised the house, 
its porch with the dining-room on the left, the old 
furniture, and the bit of tapestry made by Madame 
Mansart and now used as a seat for the cat — 
he had to turn away his head to restrain his 
tears. 

It was their first t^te-a-t^te for some time. 
Both of them were more moved than they cared 
to confess, and talked freely. Gradually the old- 
time intimacy returned. Velines found that his 
grandmother had recollected his favourite dishes, 
and the menu was one that Henriette would never 
have thought of. The weather was mild. Soon 
after the dessert they went to the window. In 
front of them the amphitheatre seemed to reach 
as far as the Boulevard de Rouen. It looked like 
a great park, and the streets like little white paths. 
Below, the bell-towers rose above the roofs, and 
the steeples of the churches looked like masts of 
anchored vessels. Velines, who was eagerly gaz- 
ing down into the city, said: “There is the high 
school, and there is the Palais de Justice — and 
there is the quay where you showed me grand- 
father's office." 

Suddenly he stopped to listen. The south 
wind brought the distant sound of chimes, chimes 
so sweet that they almost lulled one to sleep. It 
was the curfew, sounding below on the belfry of the 


The Male’s Egoism 


245 


great clock tower. It was said that these same 
chimes rang when Jeanne d’ Arc was burned at 
the stake. But Valines did not let his imagina- 
tion stray farther than his own childhood. These 
sweet bells had been the accompaniment of his 
youthful dreams. On just such evenings as this 
they had rung out with their deep notes, bidding 
him take a few hours of freedom from his studies. 
How wisely his grandmother had taught him to 
use these hoirrs. 

He knew every narrow, winding street in old 
Rouen, streets which now looked muddy and 
yellow under the gas lights, or blue and pale 
under the electric lamps. The echo of all his 
youthful pilgrimages through those quaint streets 
came back to him to-day, and instinctively his 
hand sought a clasp of affection. The reserved 
old lady held it silently in hers, and this was the 
one expression of their mutual love. 

She had taken the boy at the age of five, when 
he was left an orphan. Until he was ten years 
old, she had taught him herself ; always strict but 
patient, she had never permitted any interrup- 
tions to interfere with his lessons. When she sent 
him to the high school, she had insisted on his 
taking a high rank in his class; and she was not 
indulgent to him, when, at fourteen, he began to 
develop great physical strength and mental lazi- 
ness. Her discipline was masculine, her will 
inflexible. 

Andre had always been afraid of his grand- 


246 


Love vs. Law 


mother. She insisted upon his devoting the 
greater part of his time to his studies, but she 
also tried to make him happy. She had educated 
him according to a carefully-thought-out plan, and 
every Thursday and Sunday he had the privilege 
of inviting all his friends to his grandmother’s 
garden. And Madame Mansart, who could be 
very severe, and make him tremble if he missed 
in a recitation or neglected his study hours, was 
wise enough to say nothing when young trees were 
knocked down, the rock work injured, and flowers 
and turf ruined. Concealed behind a curtain in 
her room, she watched this mob of little ruffians 
running, pushing and wrestling, and she always 
saw Andre, her Andre so large for his fifteen years, 
and with such a deep voice, leading them. Surely, 
some day he would be a leader of men. And 
she let him have for playmates boys of lower 
social position, so that he would learn to dominate. 

Andre had, in turn, a gymnasium, a billiard- 
table, a fencing-room, and a music-room. His 
grandmother desired to give him every advan- 
tage, so that he would become sometime a great 
man. When he was eighteen, and she could en- 
joy the society of this now very attractive young 
man, she might have excused herself — not being 
his mother — from any more heroic sacrifices; but 
she decided to send him to Paris. 

It was of all this that Andre thought, that 
night, when he went to his room. What an 
admirable plan for his education his grandmother 


The Male’s Egoism 247 

had carried out! How much gratitude he owed 
her! She had moulded him, almost made him. 
He undressed before the narrow bed, where he 
had slept so many years. He had never fully 
understood the secret sacrifices that this brave 
woman had made for him — this courageous old 
woman of seventy; so strange and clever and 
self-reliant, concealing her warm heart from all 
the world. 

Then, lying cradled in the soft bed, where he 
had slept all through his boyhood, he thought, 
^‘Oh, there has been but one woman in my life, 
only one who has been absolutely devoted to 
me, who has given me all her thoughts, and her 
affection — her whole self. I have known only 
once the absolute self-sacrifice of a woman’s 
love.” 

He thought of Henriette, busy with her own 
consultations, hurrying to the Palais to hear or 
argue cases; Henriette, occupied with her own 
glory, rejoicing in her own victories, absorbing 
praise for herself, and eagerly welcoming proofs 
of her own success, while she was almost indiffer- 
ent to her husband’s ambitions. Then he medi- 
tated upon their marriage ; for him it had meant a 
great change in his environment. During his 
youth he had been surrounded with the devotion 
of a woman whose first thought he had always 
been; but he had married a young and brilliant 
woman with a strong personality who gloried 
in her independence, and cherished one aim, her 


248 


Love vs. Law 


own professional advancement. Could both hus- 
band and wife have this same aim? Ought not 
Henriette to sacrifice her own ambition, and be 
content to merge her cases with his? While his 
old grandmother had lived in the thought of the 
brilliant future of her grandson, Henriette — al- 
though loving and tender — was egotistic, in seeking 
to develop her own individuality. Then he re- 
called the touching incident when Madame Man- 
sart had obtained flattering notices of him for 
the press before the trial of Abel Lacroix. 

The next day Andre awoke to feel more sen- 
sations and to recall old memories — memories 
which he had not realised were still so powerful. 
There came the delicious smell of chocolate, which 
permeated the house; and there was the tinkling 
bell at the gate; and then, in the street, the cry 
of an old woman selling “mussels.” For twenty 
years this good dame had not changed her street- 
cry, and her plaintive appeal again brought back 
the past. He felt as though he were sixteen years 
old, and taking a holiday. 

Three days passed. Each evening came a 
letter from Henriette. Andre read them all 
coldly, and put them into his pocket. 

“Is your wife well?” his grandmother always 
asked. 

“Very well.” 

Then they turned the conversation, as if they 
were avoiding a painful topic. 


The Male’s Egoism 


249 


Velines spent whole days sauntering aimlessly 
about the city. As soon as he rose he left the 
house. In his part of the town there were many 
old proprietors who lived behind walled gardens, 
the walls overgrown with jasmine and wild flowers. 
The orchards, which in April are white, looked 
almost like snow along the banks of the River. 
From the city with its hundred bell-towers came 
a grand matutinal concert, and always rising 
above him was the spire of the cathedral. 

The slopes of the two banks of the circular 
boulevard were covered with green turf, and looked 
like fortifications. Almost mechanically Velines 
took the direction which led to his old school. 
In one of the streets there was an opening at the 
left bordered with linden trees. There was a 
door at the end, and a statue of Pierre Corneille 
stood on a grassy hillock. Velines recalled his 
schoolmasters; some were long since dead. How 
noble and dignified and modest about their 
learning they had been. Had he appreciated 
them? To-day he was a little more famous per- 
haps than they had been, but he had always been 
at the head of his class. He wandered about the 
old city, finding within it many smaller districts, 
each with its own church, its own population, and 
its own peculiar characteristics. There was the 
street Eau-de-Rohec, where under the wooden 
arches of many bridges a muddy river was ruin- 
ing the foundation of the old houses. Then there 
was the rich parish of Saint-Godard, where the 


250 


Love vs. Law 


old Rouen families lived, and where every porte- 
cochere was curved, and where pushing up be- 
tween the concrete pavement, could be seen tiny 
bits of soft green grass. 

The manufacturing part of Rouen was crowded. 
The streets were wide, and, in the day-time, 
almost deserted; but the smells of cotton and 
calico were penetrating, and huge rolls of cloth 
were piled high in the centre of the glass courts. 
The Rue Grand Pont was swarming with people, 
the store windows were decorated, and tram- 
cars, heavy carts, and cabs were crowded together. 
In Martainville the smell of potatoes and red her- 
ring permeated the atmosphere; it even extended 
as far as the beautiful church with its wonderful 
doors, sculptured by Jean Goujon, and its series 
of bell-towers and arched buttresses. The narrow 
streets and lanes in this part of the city were 
intertwined, and the pointed gabled-windows 
jutted forward, looking like bonneted old ladies, 
trying to gossip together. These ill-smelling and 
winding streets suggested the Middle Ages ; they 
often led to some unexpected view of the great 
cathedral, or ended near a marvellous fountain or 
an ancient castle, or through an opening showed 
the fairy-like Palais de Justice, the chef-d’oeuvre 
of the Renaissance. 

Velines wandered about dreamily, hardly know- 
ing whether the memories of his childhood, or 
the disappointment of his maturer years, were the 
sadder. Long months of intimacy with a com- 


The Male’s Egoism 


251 


panion like Henriette had made him averse to 
solitude. He often hungered for his wife’s sym- 
pathy; and once he hurried into the post-office 
and wrote her these hasty words: ‘‘My dearest, 
I have crossed over from the Square Solferino, 
where the children of the rich play, and I have 
found the little street where, as a small boy, I 
amused myself with some little street-children. 
The green turf descends toward a basin which is 
filled with drops of water by a tiny cascade. They 
fall with a noise like broken pebbles. Weeping 
willows bend over artificial rocks. I think all this 
exceedingly beautiful although it is only an imi- 
tation of natiure. My feelings nearly overwhelmed 
me, when I saw this familiar view. What a 
fierce struggle our life is, from the first day to the 
last! We scarcely realise it, until we look back 
and see the barriers that we have overcome. 
We sometimes wish to end the struggle, but there 
is no rest for us, no halting-place, except in the 
arms of the woman we love, where we have the 
illusion of repose ” 

When this letter had been sent, Andre regretted 
it. Was he wise to open his heart to a woman who 
was not wholly his? The bitterness of his dis- 
appointment returned. What pleasure Henriette 
had had in her victory over Fabrezan-Castagnac ! 
However, that night he dreamed of his wife, and 
when he awoke and found himself alone, he felt 
depressed. “I hope that she will miss me,” he 
thought. Then he recalled her charming smile, 


252 


l.ove vs. Law 


her gaiety, her intellectual sympathy ; and it would 
be five days before he should see her again. He 
could not sleep. A large chestnut tree stood 
before his open window with its dry and black 
branches. Stars could be seen through the 
branches; they looked almost like the fruit of the 
tree and as if they could easily be picked. Velines 
thought seriously of returning home the next day. 

In the morning, however, his grandmother 
questioned him about his profession. “What is 
the last news about that Marty case, which you 
had to argue?” 

Velines replied with assumed indifference, “It 
came before the Court last month.” 

“Well?” she said. 

Velines, again affecting complete indifference, 
responded, “This time we were less forttmate in 
the case; the child was given to the father.” 

The old lady did not reply. Under her spec- 
tacles her eyes blazed and her strong chin seemed 
rigid. She never spoke impulsively, but she 
thought a long time over this hard fact. That 
same evening she said to Andre, “Your wife ought 
not to argue any more cases. If I were you I 
would arrange to have her give up the practice 
of her profession. ” 

“ But I have not the right to do that. It would 
be absolutely selfish of me.” Yet the old lady 
had expressed a wish which had lurked in his heart 
for weeks. 

“For me to do that would be brutal,” said he. 


The Male’s Egoism 


253 


The idea of trying to tyrannise over a woman like 
Henriette! Her work is sacred in my eyes. I 
have known her since she was a young girl, and, 
in spite of her wealth, she has been so absorbed 
in her profession that she has overcome all ob- 
jections of the family and of her social world. I 
have married a woman whom I knew to be a 
lawyer; and why should I now, in the midst of 
her career, stop her work, and cramp her intel- 
lectual life?’* 

Madame Mansart let his anger calm down. 
Then she remarked; “If, during your life, you 
prefer to play second fiddle, very well, my son; 
only, from my point of view, this is not a man’s 
part.” 

“There is no rivalry between us,” replied 
Andre. ‘ ‘ We love each other, and we try to develop 
ourselves as much as is possible.” 

“And if your wife throws you into the shade, 
you will be delighted, without doubt.” 

“I am not envious of Henriette’s success.” 

“It is not for a man to envy his wife’s career, 
only it is absurd that he should be compared with 
her. People will soon call you ‘The husband of 
Madame Velines ’. ” 

He suddenly remembered that this very phrase 
had been uttered by a woman in the Eleventh 
Court. A red flush covered his face. “What is 
there peculiar in our lives ? My wife has her talent, 
I have mine. I have masculine strength, classic 
training, and a far greater knowledge of the busi- 


254 


Love vs. Law 


ness world. Why should I be humiliated by a 
woman’s success?” 

”I do not mean to break up your home, my 
child,” said Madame Mansart, “but I believe 
in plain speaking and I like to have people see 
clearly. Your wife, with her paltry legal triumph, 
has come very near ruining your career. Yes! 
Women are the fashion, now. Their poetry, 
their pictures, their novels, and even their science 
are over-praised. The fact that there are any 
intelligent women has only recently been dis- 
covered. They are regarded as fresh creations. 
There have always been strong women, capable of 
looking at life intellectually, but such women have 
been content to work at home. This new-woman 
movement is upsetting the world, and making 
marriage more difficult than ever. Now you have 
introduced a rival at your own fireside. You 
smile because you know you are much her superior. 
No matter, she is a woman, and, therefore, a 
phenomenal being. Beside her, all your triumphs 
will seem as nothing. Take the example of Madame 
Duzy. Monsieur Duzy is not a great man, you 
will say; he was in the high school with you, and 
you have your opinion of him. Yet he has 
become one of the most distinguished civil en- 
gineers in France. When the novels of Madame 
Duzy are sold for old paper, the bridges that he 
has constructed will still be the admiration of 
our grandchildren. Yet everybody knows the 
name of the famous novelist, Madame Duzy, and 


The Male’s Egoism 


255 


people are scarcely conscious that Monsieur Duzy 
exists : because he is only a man, and this is the age 
of women. In my time, men adored fame and 
distinction, as they adored women. They called 
them their mistresses; and that gave us Daudet, 
Gambetta, and Lachaud.” 

Velines was pale, but he tried to speak lightly. 

“Grandmother, Grandmother, you were bom in 
a romantic age.” 

“I was bom, my son, in a time when the 
women were modest, and wished their husbands* 
glory rather than their own. They worked for 
their husbands, and sacrificed for them. They 
existed only for their homes, and for the happiness 
of those whom they loved; they maintained the 
permanence of the family, whereas to-day they 
imperil it.” 

Andre felt obliged to defend Henriette ; and he 
said, “I have the joy of possessing, for my wife, 
the most charming companion in the world; inti- 
macy with the most intelligent man could not be 
as stimulating as intimacy with Henriette. For 
all this I am willing to sacrifice something.” 

“I have known many intelligent and intellectual 
women who were not lawyers, however,” replied 
his grandmother. 

That evening, after dinner, Velines went out. 
His eyes burned and his head felt heavy. Leaving 
the Rue Bihorel, he went down towards Rouen 
by the Bellevue path, which was steep and led to 
the very heart of the city. The first crescent of the 


256 


Love vs. Law 


moon lighted the dark valley, and shone over the 
city with its three cathedrals, and the gardens 
white with blossoms. 

Velines was much disturbed by his grand- 
mother’s words. What a clear mind she had! 
All that the world thought of his unconventional 
marriage and his r 61 e of eclipsed husband, his 
keen old grandmother had frankly stated. His 
future, which had seemed so full of possibilities, 
appeared now hopeless. He would never be any- 
thing but “the husband of Madame Velines.” 
And the man who had laughed at his grand- 
mother’s romanticism now whispered to himself 
with bitterness, “Must I give up all my own 
ambitions?” 

He pushed his way through the dirty streets, as 
far as Martainville, where the lower classes were 
noisily disputing in their lodging-houses. He 
crossed the muddy roads; wandered along the 
Rue des Augustins, and into the Rue Arpent, 
where the harbor-masters held their trials. 
Then he stopped, on the quay of the river: 
Henriette? Oh, he was foolish to think of her. 
Doubtless she was happy without him, still 
absorbed by her professional consultations. Then 
he recollected how once she had been delighted 
to have as many consultations as he had. 

Yet why should not this brilliant young crea- 
ture have her dreams of fame and glory? Why 
should not a woman be as celebrated as a man? 
Then he thought of Monsieur and Madame Duzy, 


The Male’s Egoism 


257 


and he found something absurd in their marriage. 
Madame Duzy only manufactured novels, said 
he ; if she manufactured bridges, like her husband, 
the poor fellow would have to be greatly pitied. 

Then Andre felt as though Henriette were his 
worst enemy. 

The wharfs were deserted, dark, and silent. 
There came from the banks an odour of wine and 
of tar. The masts of the merchant ships stood 
up straight against the silvery sky. In the cafes 
where some Russian players rasped their violins, 
there was an atmosphere of brandy and rum. 
The air was mild and damp. Velines leaned on 
his elbow, and looked down over the railing of 
the bridge. Yes, Henriette had ruined his future! 
That was the plain fact. Hers had been the 
caprice of a young girl, who had coveted luxuries 
all her life, and now coveted one more luxury, 
professional success. Could he blame her, how- 
ever? He almost wished to stand aside, out of 
the combat, and let her win. He suffered much 
disappointment in the present, and he could see 
no satisfactory future for himself. Could he ever 
love another woman? No! That was impos- 
sible. Tender memories of their long intimacy 
brought tears to his eyes. Then again he felt 
angry with his wife, and as if she were an obstacle 
in his life which he would like to trample down. 

Before him, in the black water, he saw a little 
boat glide; he could hear the sound of the oars. 
One candle in a red paper lantern lighted it. He 


17 


258 


Love vs. Law 


longed to take this boat, and go, he cared not 
whither, to begin his life over again, and to be able 
to make a great career for himself. He no longer 
wished to return to Paris. He thought of length- 
ening his vacation. The baby might not ar- 
rive until next month. Why should he leave 
Rouen? 

So he stayed on from day to day, Henriette 
writing him letters which told him how well she 
was, and saying, “ Stay as long as you like, dearest. 
I prefer to be without you rather than to have you 
unhappy near me. I will not speak of my lone- 
liness.” 

“Her loneliness!” cried Andre sarcastically. 
And he thought of the clients besieging her door, 
and how, during his absence, she could get away 
all his cases. 

He enjoyed daily his long walks in Rouen. 
Little by little he grew less depressed, but his love 
for his wife seemed gradually to decrease, so that 
it was less difficult to stay away from her. The 
blossoms of the fruit-trees in the orchard were 
blown away by the spring winds. In the evening 
the sunset was reflected in thousands of window- 
panes, in the houses scattered like nests above and 
below the amphitheatre, and among the forests 
of Bihorel. 


One morning, at breakfast, Velines received a 
telegram which made him grow pale. He pushed 


The Male’s Egoism 


259 


back his chair, and threw down his napkin, 
giving all his attention to the words. 

“Henriette!” he sobbed. 

And his grandmother read, “A girl-baby was 
born last night, before the expected time. Both 
doing well. What train will you take? 

''Marcadieu.'’ 


Book IV 


CHAPTER XI 

THE PRICE OF SUCCESS 

M adame MARTINAL worked in her study. 

It was the most attractive room in the 
small apartment on the Quai de Megisserie, where 
she lived. It was furnished, at considerable 
expense, with a chest of drawers, a desk, and three 
large arm-chairs, to impress her clients. Behind 
the desk was a window; and when the young 
woman received her clients, she sat with her back 
toward the light, which streamed into the faces 
of her visitors. During her working hours, she 
saw on the other side of the river the spires and 
the great towers of the Palais. When she paused 
in her work she looked at them dreamily. They 
seemed friendly and consoling to the poor little 
woman, almost a stranger in this large city. Only 
in the Palais de Justice did she feel that she had 
a place. That was her world. 

On this June evening, however, Jeanne Martinal 
was not writing an argument. Her desk looked 
almost too orderly and too empty for the desk 
260 


The Price of Success 


261 

of a lawyer. It was her account-book which 
she was studying. There were many bills and 
many papers covered with figures, and beside 
her, nearly empty, the little box where she kept 
her savings. 

She had foreseen that the winter would be a 
hard one, yet she had not earned one thousand 
francs. Even consultations had been rare. Some 
cases that she had counted on, she had missed. 
Yes! she knew well that often she paid for Hen- 
riette’s success, and Henriette was rich and did 
not need cases. Often, when she went out of the 
Palais and saw in the Place Dauphine a long line 
of carriages stopping before Henriette’s door, she 
felt tears come into her eyes. Now that so many 
women had followed the fashion of having women- 
lawyers, why should they go to the Quai de 
Megisserie, when only a few steps away lived the 
most famous woman of the Bar? Henriette was 
so gentle and sweet that even Madame Martinal 
could not envy her long, and she tried to smother 
her bitter feelings, and to recognise her friend’s 
superiority. 

She went to the Palais regularly, walking from 
court to court and listening to the trials, wearing 
her judicial robe, now six years old and beginning 
to look worn. No one seemed to see her, however, 
or if she were noticed she could hear them ask: 
^Hs she the one?” And the reply would come, 
^‘No, she is not.” This end to the dialogue 
affected her sometimes like a blow. 


262 


Love vs. Law 


She never showed her discouragement, but 
used her idle hours in making over her gowns, 
while the children were at their lessons. She 
kept her sewing in her office, now that she had 
given up expecting clients. 

Little by little her slender savings disappeared. 
She bought at a second-hand shop a volume called 
One Hundred Ways of Cooking Left-overs, and she 
determined to cook more economical meals than 
her aunt could. The school expenses of Pierre 
and the butcher-bills worried her frightfully. 
But she was too proud to speak to any one of her 
anxiety. She turned her boys’ clothes, and every 
evening when they were in bed she pressed their 
crumpled little collars. But, on Sundays, when 
they put on their best clothes and all went to the 
Bois de Boulogne, many people looked enviously 
at the young mother, with her three little sons, 
and thought how gay and happy she must 
be. 

On this particular evening she had not wholly 
lost hope, and she felt that with her knowledge 
of law and her strength of will, she would still 
be able to keep her home for her children. 

A step sotmded on the stairs and mounted 
lightly. It was Pierre, her eldest child, just home 
from Charlemagne Academy. He came in like 
a breeze of wind, looking a little frail, and, with 
his slender figure and narrow face and dreamy 
eyes, he resembled his father. He threw his 
arms around his mother’s neck, and kissed her 


The Price of Success 263 

on the forehead. “My pretty mamma, did you 
have any clients to-day?” 

“No, Pierre! No one came here.” 

“You went to the Palais. Perhaps there some 
one gave you a case.” 

“No, dearest; I went there, but no one spoke 
to me.” 

The boy sat down on the cover of the desk, 
his thin, red legs kicking against the drawers. 
He did not ask any more questions. His soft 
little hands hung down over his knees, and he 
looked strangely dejected. 

“What is the matter? ” asked Madame Martinal. 

“ What will become of us?” demanded the child, 
anxiously. 

“O my poor little one,” said his mother smiling, 
“you must not spend your time moaning over 
your fate, because roasted partridges do not fall 
into your lap. Go to work, my boy, I do not 
love cry-babies. If, after your father’s death, I 
had wept, what would have become of you? 
Now do not anticipate evil. A great deal can 
be accomplished by courage. Trust in your 
mother, and do your own work well, and try to 
be a happy little boy. 

Thus giving her child an example of fortitude, 
she went into the dining-room, to attend to her 
daily work, when the bell rang and the maid 
introduced Madame Faustin. 

The two women met affectionately. Since 
Fabrezan had introduced them, they had been 


264 


Love vs. Law 


great friends. Poverty had altered Madame Faus- 
tin. She wore, in June, a heavy winter hat, dis- 
coloured by rain, and her black dress, made over 
each season, now began to show white cotton 
threads. But, above all, her shoes revealed her 
poverty. They were stretched and shapeless, and 
looked as though they hurt her feet at every step. 

“You are in trouble?” began Jeanne Martinal, 
noting her red eyelids. 

“Trouble? Yes! I work night and day. I 
have a machine for which I pay a little each week, 
and I earn only seventeen sous, day or night 
now.” 

She explained that in order to deaden the sound 
of the machine at night she covered the wheels 
with flannel. Madame Martinal, her lawyer, 
asked about her alimony, and found that M. 
Faustin had paid it the first month, and since then 
she had not heard from him. 

“But we can force him to pay it,” said Madame 
Martinal. “We will assign his property to you, 
if necessary. We shall go before a referee.” 

Compared with Madame Faustin, Madame Mar- 
tinal seemed a Croesus. She was well-dressed, 
and her office was luxuriously furnished, and 
she had that air of self-confidence which women 
accustomed to depend on themselves usually 
gain. She readily assumed her r61e of counsel 
for this deserted wife. 

“Yes, I will follow your advice, and do whatever 
you think best, more for my daughter than for 


The Price of Success 


265 


myself. If I had two hundred francs a month 
from her father, I could care for my child well, 
and educate her. If I were alone it would be 
different. I must confess to you that I wrote to 
my husband; and he replied to me in an insulting 
tone. ” 

‘‘Show me your husband’s letter,” demanded 
Madame Martinal. 

“The letter? I burned it. It was too in- 
sulting. He openly said that a man could not 
support all the women he had loved. I threw 
the letter into the fire, annnoyed to think I could 
have humiliated myself to ask money of such a 
being.” 

“Foolish woman! That letter should have been 
shown to the judge.” 

“How was I to know its importance?” 

Madame Faustin, with health, youth, education, 
and more than usual intelligence, felt herself an 
ignorant child in the face of this great social 
problem of the age with which men and women 
all around her were struggling. The deserted 
wife, left with children to support! What is to 
become of her? 

She envied her friend. “You have an oppor- 
tunity to make something of your life. You 
have a profession.” 

“ Yes,” replied Jeanne Martinal absently. “Yet 
we have had our hard times, also.” Then the 
woman’s professional training asserted itself, and 
she quickly advised the deserted wife as to the 


266 


Love vs. Law 


best method of securing her alimony. Those two 
hundred francs a month, a small enough allowance 
surely, she should have. The lawyer looked up 
cases, and quoted articles and decisions, and her 
client could but admire her talent and her solid 
legal knowledge. Hardly had her visitor departed, 
when Madame Martinal put on a large cooking 
apron, and while the pens of her children could be 
heard scratching on their copy-books, she busied 
herself for an hour in the diminutive kitchen, 
from which soon came savoury odors. 

When the boys had finished their lessons, a 
pretty embroidered cloth was laid on the table, 
two sous’ worth of fresh flowers were put into 
a glass vase, and some preserved strawberries, 
prepared by the lawyer in her idle hours, were 
added to the repast. The three lively little boys 
behaved well at the table, and had great appetites. 
She talked gaily with them of an excursion to the 
sea-shore next season. The old aunt joined with 
them. They had no servant now; each of the two 
cooked on alternate days. But the dainty meal, 
the table ornamented with flowers, silver, and 
good china, told of the high standard of living 
maintained by this courageous woman, who had 
rebuilt her own wrecked home. 

The meal finished, the children were astonished 
to see her put on her hat and make ready to go 
out without them. “Take us to the Square Saint 
Jacques!” they entreated. 

But she made an excuse of “business engage- 


The Price of Success 


267 


ment, ” and went out without further explanations. 
It was not dark yet, and she walked by the Pont- 
Neuf, as far as the Place Dauphine. She went 
to see Henriette. The valet de chambre said 
that Monsieur and Madame were at dinner, and 
suggested that she go into the dining-room. But 
Martinal explained that it was Madame Velines 
alone whom she wanted to see, and waited for her 
in the blue room. 


Since his hasty return home, when he had found 
Henriette a mother, Andre Velines had tried con- 
scientiously to look at life in a more philosophical 
way, and to banish his jealous thoughts. 

At first he was disturbed by the ugliness of the 
little baby, then he felt a certain pride in the 
possession of a child. By Henriette ’s sick-bed he 
had time for much silent reflection. The child 
united them more firmly than ever, and gave 
their marriage a deeper significance. This birth 
was a great event ; it affected all their lives. The 
tender care necessary for Henriette, the silent 
hours when she was guarded from all excitement, 
the marvel of this mysterious young life lying 
helpless in the cradle, the nurse watching in the 
room, which was darkened to keep out the day- 
light — all tended to make Andre feel that he was 
living in a dream. The past was blotted out. 
But when his wife began to recover, the realities 
returned. 


268 


Love vs. Law 


At night Henriette nursed her child; but her 
milk was not considered nourishing enough, and 
during the day they gave the child the bottle. 
A Breton nurse was engaged to care for the 
baby, and the young woman-lawyer again went 
daily to the Palais. Velines accompanied her, 
seeing clearly the result, but determined to look 
heroically at the growing fame of his young wife, 
even if it wholly obscured his own professional 
success. He made up his mind to renoimce his 
own ambitions; and he neglected his cases, and 
took little interest in his work. No one perceived 
his discouragement, for he had not changed out- 
wardly. Yet all stimulus for his work had gone. 
He stopped reading law, and read books of Christ- 
ian philosophy ; but he read without fully absorb- 
ing their meaning. 

Meantime, his wife developed. At first she wish- 
ed to argue cases for children, and Mademoiselle 
Angely gave her one of her pupils who had escaped 
from Ablon and had stolen many articles from the 
large stores. Maternity had enlarged the young 
lawyer’s heart, and when she saw the little culprit, 
coming in between two guards, at the end of 
that dark lobby, she felt a new thrill of pity. 
Through love for her own child love for all child- 
hood developed in Henriette. While questioning 
this little boy, seated on the bench for criminals, 
instinctively she took his hand, a child’s hand, yet 
already stained with vice. Then she argued his 
case with all the warmth of her passionate nature. 


The Price of Success 


269 


After her child’s birth her first entrance into 
the Palais was marked by her defence of this 
juvenile criminal. Her long consultation prac- 
tice had given her a self-confidence which increased 
her oratorical power. Although Henriette’s good 
taste made her argument impersonal, it was not 
hard to perceive that into her argument for this 
child she put all her maternal sentiment. She 
spoke with the passion of a young mother. Her 
many friends in the audience were deeply im- 
pressed. This was her second successful case. 
She justified all the sentiments of Mademoiselle 
Angely and the ideas of Madame Surgeres. Velines 
said to himself, “I have now no more personal am- 
bition. I think only of my wife.” He felt almost 
beside himself at the ovation which they gave 
Henriette on the great white staircase of the 
Criminal Court. 

Henriette beamed with happiness. Her pro- 
fessional life was a continual excitement. Where- 
ever she went, smiles greeted her. Her maternity 
had made her even more beautiful; she was a 
little pale, a little more serious, but she had lost 
none of her grace; even in the Palais she thought of 
her daughter and congratulated herself on her 
new dignity as a parent. Her fellow-lawyers 
took another point of view. They saw in her not 
only the mother but that rare being, an original 
creative orator, and they were ready to crown her 
with laurel. Many of her clients had postponed 
their cases until she was well; and from the end 


270 


Love vs. Law 


of May, she devoted her time exclusively to them. 
Although not every one of her cases was a victory 
— indeed her work in the Civil Court did not 
receive much notice — she was yet an object of 
curiosity, and lawyers always filled the court 
room when she argued cases; and people said, 
“It is the little Velines who had this case.” 

In the Salle des Pas Perdus, she was often 
surrounded by so many curious people that she 
kept out of it except when she had to go into 
the court room. But Velines, with little to do, 
walked about; and he often saw his wife stopped 
by a group of women eager to talk to her, and often 
escorted by them to the dressing-room. One 
day Velines could scarcely repress a smile as he 
watched Madame Clementin. She stood by the 
Referee’s door, with her back to the bronze can- 
delabra, and watched Henriette as she crossed the 
hall, stopped every moment by admiring friends; 
the discontented woman looked at her so male- 
volently that she betrayed her jealous thoughts. 

Velines now stayed more at home. “What 
object is it for me to go to the Palais?” he said 
to himself. “My career is ended.” In truth, 
the fear of ridicule, which he felt when near his 
wife, kept him away. He forced himself to be 
stoical, comparing himself to those husbands who 
gave their whole fortune into their wives’ hands, 
not regretting the loss if those wives were only 
worthy of the sacrifice. All his dreams of fame 
had vanished, and at thirty -five he found himself 


The Price of Success 


271 


without aim or ambition, vanquished before the 
battle. 

At times, when with Henriette, he thought, 
‘‘I adore her.” But when he heard her speak of 
“My office,” “My success,” and “My clients,” 
and unconsciously enjoy the position in the 
Palais which he felt she had taken away from him, 
a bitter hostility arose in his soul. Henriette 
had become the fashion in Paris, and Paris was 
showering her with unmeasured praise. When 
alone in his study Velines sank under these bitter 
moods, and had palpitations of the heart which 
seemed almost to predict a serious disease. He 
was so tired of everything in life, however, that 
he did not care to consult a doctor. 

Sometimes the tender affection of his wife 
soothed his feelings, and he would say, “Oh, I 
am thankful that she does not know what I feel. 
May God keep her happy!” Thus his insatiable 
appetite for personal distinction satisfied itself 
with self-sacrifice. 

They still had hours, however, of sweet compan- 
ionship. She was not a woman to be overlooked 
easily. Her mind still interested him, and that 
evening at dinner she had been laughing sarcas- 
tically at Erambourg, before whom she had been 
arguing a case that afternoon. 

“What can poor little Martinal want with me, 
at this hour?” she said, folding her napkin. 
“Perhaps it is as senior counsel that she wants 
me.” 


2^2 


Love vs. Law 


Andre could not help replying, ^‘Madame 
Martinal is an older lawyer than are you.” 

When she was alone with her friend, in her 
parlour which was furnished completely in eigh- 
teenth-century style, so suitable for confidences, 
Jeanne Martinal seemed troubled; and Henriette 
had delicacy enough to see it, and took her hand 
affectionately . ‘ ‘ What is it , Madame Martinal ? ’ ’ 

Tears wet the eyes of the widow, but she con- 
trolled herself and said, smiling, “I did not believe 
that I could make mys^elf say what I wish to say 
this evening, but I did not mean to be so weak.” 

“But you know that I am your friend?” re- 
sponded Henriette who imagined it was a need of 
money, and sought to assist her by mentioning it. 

“If you were not my friend, I would not be 
here : the friend whom I have the most confidence 
in. Listen, my little Velines, I want you to take 
me for your secretary. ” 

Henriette burst into laughter. “You — for my 
secretary — but I am younger than you are; you 
are more experienced than I am. I would not 
dare.” 

“You know that you have ten times more 
talent than I have. That is the truth. And I 
am having a hard time now to pay my debts. 
I even do not see my way clear toward paying 
for Pierre’s school. And all this because of 
your success.” She turned away her eyes for a 
moment, apparently to arrange the folds of her 
gown, and added, “Does my frankness make you 


The Price of Success 


273 


angry?’* Then she went on: “At the time when 
I was beginning to make a little reputation, and 
have a little success, and look forward to supporting 
my family in comfort, your star rose on the horizon. 
Now people speak only of you. You are the 
fashionable woman-lawyer, the “lion” of the 
Bar. Women go to you as to a popular doctor, 
and what has been your success has led to my 
failure. My little Velines, if I said that this 
pleased me I should lie. Fame I am ready 
to give up, but food — ah, that is something 
needful in a home with four children who all have 
good appetites. You are too keen a woman to 
believe me if I said that I had not been jealous. 
I have been jealous, my dear, because you have 
not needed all this money. You are happy, 
rich, under the protection of a man who adores 
you ; and you have taken away my clients, clients 
that I have worked hard to please. But I have 
overcome my jealousy, now. I have too much 
friendship for you to keep it. Can one retain 
such bitter feelings against a fellow-worker such 
as you are? I have come here only to urge that 
you take me for your secretary.” 

This was the first shadow that had fallen over 
Henriette’s rather shallow happiness. What! Had 
her chariot- wheels crushed helpless victims? Had 
others wept while she lightly rejoiced in her 
easily- won victories? Her face clouded. 

“ I regret this, deeply, ” said she. “lam humi- 
liated to discover myself in the position of the 

18 


274 


Love vs. Law 


selfish rich, who flaunt their triumphs over the 
poor whom they have ruined. I grieve to have 
you think that I am the cause of your trouble.” 

“But if you will only take me for your secre- 
tary!” persisted Jeanne Martinal. 

“I will do anything in the world for you, any- 
thing to compensate you for having your practice 
injured. Possibly there are others less kindly 
than you who hate me. Have I many enemies?” 

“No! You have no enemies — Madame Clem- 
entin perhaps. Yet you cannot be said to have 
taken her clients. Her cases have nothing in 
common with yours. As for Louise Pernette, she 
is a child who has not yet said her last word, or 
her first. As for those who use their physical 
beauty to win their cases and those who never 
appear in court, you have not injured them. 
No! no! my dear, I was your rival, and I alone 
had the right to become your enemy. I have 
always considered you, with your pretty girlish- 
ness, as a wonderful little woman whom I could 
not help adoring, in spite of everything. So I 
suggest that we link our destinies and our offices. 
I will come to you every day, as a confidential 
partner. I will look up your cases, make notes, 
hunt up the law, receive your clients, write your 
letters, and, when you wish it, assist in any argu- 
ments, if you have an unimportant case that you 
can trust me with. The result will be that you 
will have more time to rest and rock your baby, 
and I shall have an income sufficient to bring up 


The Price of Success 


275 


my little family. Then, also, occasionally I shall 
get a case from among your clients, when the 
client is unable to pay Madame Velines’s prices. 
What do you think of my plan?” 

Henriette listened. For a moment the idea of 
consulting Andre, before making a definite arrange- 
ment, came to her. Then this concession to the 
old-fashioned idea of matrimony appeared be- 
neath her. Why consult her husband on every 
question, when from all over the city people came 
to consult her? 

The idea of having a secretary pleased her 
vanity greatly. Fabrezan had a secretary. 

So they agreed upon the day for beginning their 
partnership. Henriette’s success blinded her. She 
did not appreciate the self-sacrifice of the coura- 
geous Martinal, in her resolve to put herself 
in an inferior position and her willingness to lose 
her identity for the sake of her little ones. She 
never complained. Indeed, she was only too 
glad to sacrifice all her vanity, in return for the 
daily bread of her family. All her pride had dis- 
appeared, and every evening she returned to her 
home, dreaming of the trip to the sea-shore, which 
her three dear children were to have the next 


summer. 


CHAPTER XII 


HELPMEET OR RIVAL 


HE sensitive Velines considered it an injury to 



1 him for Henriette to take a secretary. But 
he brooded over this wound to his vanity in 
silence. “You give yourself every advantage in 
your work, ” he once said. 

“Could I refuse the urgent request of an old 
friend?” she replied. 

“There were other ways of assisting her. You 
might have occasionally given her a case, for 
instance. But since you prefer this, I have 
nothing to say.” 

In the eyes of the world, however, and in the 
presence of his brother-lawyers, Velines felt 
himself in a strange situation; while he was able 
to look after his clients, alone, his wife needed a 
secretary. In the legal world it is by these small 
details that the extent of a man's practice is 
judged. 

Velines felt that his wife had been very incon- 
siderate, and he kept out of sight more than ever. 
People said that he had declined three important 
cases. 


276 


Helpmeet or Rival 


277 


Occasionally he sent away the nurse, and 
remained alone by the cradle of his little girl. The 
open window let him see Madame Martinal, com- 
ing and going, arranging her legal papers. Velines 
looked on a little disdainfully. He sometimes 
felt as if Henriette conducted a mere business 
and bartered her talent to a growing number of 
customers, in the shop below. Then he opened 
the curtain of the cradle and looked at the delicate 
featirres of the baby. How he wished it might 
have been a son, whom he could educate! This 
girl would belong to the mother more than to 
him. “She will take even this from me,’’ he said 
bitterly. 

Again he thought of the future, foreseeing the 
growing intimacy between mother and daughter. 
The little girl, hardly old enough to understand 
anything about life, would yet pride herself on 
having a mamma whose photographs were seen 
everywhere, a mamma whose name was heard in 
the street. As to papa — what a commonplace 
person he was ! He was of very little importance. 

At this moment the black eyes opened, the tiny 
mouth curved, moving the chin, showing that baby 
had recognised papa, and his face broke into a 
happy smile. Then the poor man’s affection, 
long repressed, took possession of him, and he 
determined to be first with this dear little daughter 
whom he found so charming. He even saw in 
her a resemblance to his grandmother; which gave 
him a particular claim on her. 


278 


Love vs. Law 


Madame Martinal annoyed him more than she 
knew when she said, “The child is the image of 
President Marcadieu. ** 

When she had many cases, Henriette went alone 
to the Palais, Madame Martinal staying to receive 
her clients and answer letters. One afternoon, 
when the latter was free, she knocked at Velines’s 
study door, saying, “Can I not help you a little 
with your work? Madame is away; I have not 
enough to do.” 

Seeing her in her black silk skirt, and with her 
pen in her hand, Velines thought of her as he had 
formerly seen her, in cap and gown at the Palais, 
full of pride in her profession ; and he felt a pang 
of sympathy. 

“Oh, no,” he said smiling. “We cannot put the 
same flavour in all our sauces. This is your home 
now. Rest a little, but do not expect me to dictate 
my letters to you. It requires a genius like Henri- 
ette to subjugate a woman of your ability, and put 
her in a subordinate r61e. I would not wish to 
have my notes copied by a lawyer of your stand- 
ing.” 

“Oh, I have given up all my ambitions now. 
Even my vanity has gone. I sometimes think 
that the desire for fame is not natural in a woman’s 
nature. We are made for other things. My 
one aim is to earn as much as possible for my 
children. My work with your wife is most 
agreeable. What if it does mean for me wholly to 
efface myself and contribute to her success? 


Helpmeet or Rival 279 

I know well that I am not her equal, and that this 
is the best place for me.” 

“I know well,” said Velines, “that you are an 
admirable little woman.” 

“Then,” said she gaily, “trust me with a case 
of some importance.” 

“No! And for two reasons. The first is that 
at present I have not an important case.” 

She could not believe this statement, and was 
amazed; for Velines had been supposed to be a 
busy man. 

“No,” Velines said, “I have little to do, and I 
am tired; and then — ” he paused, and felt an 
impulse to confide in this loyal woman who had 
made such a brave struggle with life. 

“You look depressed,” she suggested. 

“No! but after having been wildly ambitious, I 
have come little by little to a state of tranquil indif- 
ference, where nothing seems of any importance.” 

“My philosophy of life,” she offered, “which 
necessitates clipping the wings, of course, is not 
worthy of a man. But for me, poor, with only a 
small amount of talent, and three children to 
support, with the commonplace name of Madame 
Martinal, it is not wise to be too ambitious; now 
for you, for Andre Velines, it is a very different 
matter. It is natural for men to desire fame, 
and you deserve it. You know very well what 
a reputation you have, at the Palais, and then the 
whole Bar expects you to be its President, within 
ten years. ” 


28 o 


Love vs. Law 


‘‘To be President of the Bar, ” exclaimed Velines 
sarcastically; “I never even dreamed of that 
honour. Is it worth all the necessary struggling? 
After all, why not give up the fierce competition, 
and live in the solitude of your own thoughts?” 

“But you are too well known to be left to the 
solitude of your own thoughts. You belong to 
the public, and are one of the four or five men the 
most talked of to-day. The public will have you, 
cost what it may. ” 

Velines’ s mood of depression and irritability 
vanished, at hearing these stimulating words. 

Madame Martinal continued, “People speak of 
you in connection with the Mauvert divorce. 
But you are not the one to take that case. Are 
you not an intimate friend of the lover?” 

“ I know George Sylvere, but I do not know his 
mistress’s attorney.” 

Then, incited by her love of legal gossip, Madame 
Martinal told the news of the Palais. Much had 
happened since that summer day wfien she had 
pointed out Madame Mauvert to Henriette on 
the stairs leading to the upper halls. Monsieur 
Mauvert, her husband, the excellent merchant, 
had sued for a divorce. He had retained Lecellier 
as his Counsel. His wife’s lawyer was not yet 
known. Various names were mentioned besides 
Velines; the grand-nephew of Chaix-d’ Est-Ange, 
a lawyer of merit, but burdened by a coarse, heavy 
voice; Thaddee-Mira, the famous Jew; and even 
the astute Lamblin. The new secretary described 


Helpmeet or Rival 


281 


to Velines the attitude of these men toward one 
another. It was not a very savoury affair, the 
divorce of a mother who had left her husband 
and four children to follow an artist. But it was 
an affair that had stirred all Paris and there was 
sharp competition among the lawyers for this 
juicy morsel. 

Just then Henriette came into Velines’s study, 
with her hat still on, carrying her little daughter, 
and declaring, “She has begun to say ‘mamma.’ 
I am sure she says ‘mamma.’ I went in to see 
her, and as I came near the cradle I heard her 
say very softly — ‘Ma-ma.’” 

She covered the child with kisses, making the 
little one laugh; and then, seated near her hus- 
band’s desk, she opened her dress, showing lace 
and ribbon, offering her breast to the infant, 
who took it eagerly. “There, my love, my pre- 
cious!’’ Then, turning to Madame Martinal, “I 
have seen Madame de Puteaux, the woman whose 
husband left her such a troublesome inheritance. 
I have advised her to mortgage it to the cor- 
poration. It is better to exchange those factories 
for a little bread.” 

Madame Martinal interrupted, “Do you recol- 
lect that a woman who sells to a corporation 
sacrifices all her perquisites?” 

“That is true,” said Henriette, “but the wife 
who gives up her property has the right to take 
it again from her husband.” 

“But, my little Velines, you have forgotten 


282 


Love vs. Law 


Article 1456. The surviving wife, who wishes 
to give up her rights to a corporation, ought, in 
three months from the day of her husband’s 
death, to make an inventory. This woman has 
been a widow for many months, and has not made 
an inventory. ” 

‘ ‘ Indeed, ’ ’ replied Henriette. ‘ ‘ But, dear friend, 
you have forgotten Article 1458. The widow, 
under certain circumstances, can demand a delay. 
I took this step last year, with another client.” 
Then, caressing with her finger the soft blond 
hair which almost made a curl on the forehead 
of the child, she murmured, “My jewel! my 
dearest child!” 

Velines, during the conversation, played idly 
with a pencil. At times, the child, turning her 
head, looked at him seriously; and then he would 
cluck and snap his fingers, in that universal 
language which all babies understand. 

“ Is your client on good terms with her husband’s 
heirs?” asked Madame Martinal. 

“No! On the worst possible; and the inven- 
tories are not alike. Madame P. comes to see me 
to-morrow morning, and then I will make a plea 
for her. It is absurd that she has no contract. 
Andre, my dear, you have not kissed me,” 
she cried, turning to her husband. 

He came forward, and Henriette put her one 
free arm around his neck. Madame Martinal said, 
hastily, “I will go and find your portfolio. 
There is a letter in it which I need.” 


Helpmeet or Rival 


283 


She left, with moist eyes. Henriette, rich, 
handsome, living a life of luxury, spoiled by the 
public, famous all over Paris — all this the widow 
could see without one feeling of envy. But when 
she saw her friend in the arms of a devoted hus- 
band, this was more than she could bear. “I too 
have been loved,” she said. ‘‘I too have felt the 
caresses of a tender lover. ” And then a profound 
sob shook this heroic woman, who had repressed 
her conjugal love, in order to devote herself 
exclusively to her maternal duties. 

“How he loves her!” she mused. “What a 
happy marriage! Is it not too much happiness 
for a woman to have: so much fame and so much 
love?” 


The next day at noon Velines was at the Palais. 
He showed himself everywhere, in the Supreme 
Court, the Criminal Court, and the lobby. He 
walked through all the corridors and halls with 
a firm step, his tall figure rising above that of 
most of the lawyers. 

His long period of idleness had reinforced his 
strength, and he appeared like a restless animal 
who was seeking some larger creature, to fight. 

“My dear man,” said Fabrezan, who met him 
between two audiences, “I would not like to meet 
you in a contest to-day. You have a most com- 
bative look. ” 


284 


Love vs. Law 


The remark annoyed Velines, who exclaimed: 
‘‘I have been in retreat, at home, much used up; 
but to-day I shall begin my work, and I already 
feel better.” 

Before returning home, he wandered about the 
streets; as he passed a great china shop he recol- 
lected that a collection of portraits by George 
Sylvere was to be exhibited there. He went in, 
glanced rapidly through the gallery, where there 
were some rather faded pictures, portraits loaned 
by the artist. As he went out and passed before 
a post-office, he stopped and wrote two lines of 
praise to his friend. 

This effort to get the artist’s attention, and 
possibly the case, was done half impulsively; 
for, usually, Velines was very severe against petty 
methods of securing clients. He was so anxious 
over the result, however, that he was in a fever 
of anxiety all day. 

Paris in July was depressing. The trees on the 
boulevard already began to be leafless and yellow. 
An odour of absinthe drifted from the crowded 
cafes, and the painted countenances in the street 
disgusted him. Andre had never imagined love 
except for one woman; no other woman could 
hold him for even a moment. To-night nothing 
interested him, neither his home nor the outside 
world; he needed, above all things, absorbing 
work to distract his troubled spirit. “I must 
argue this Mauvert trial,” he said. “But what 
to do while waiting?” 


Helpmeet or Rival 


285 


An idea struck him, suggested by the recent 
wound to his pride. “Why not reopen the Marty 
trial?’’ Then he thought over the trial and the 
conduct of the parents since the decision, trying 
to find some new points to justify another trial. 
But no ! Everything had been arranged according 
to the decision of the court. The child had been 
taken to the father, on the Boulevard Madeleine. 
People said that the engineer had renewed his 
youth, and again taken up his intellectual pur- 
suits. The mother had gone away from Paris, 
for several weeks, and, since her return, it was said 
that her health had begun to fail. The doctors 
had ordered her to Switzerland, but she declined 
to leave Paris, fearing to lose the few hours every 
fortnight with her boy. 

“If I could only find some new facts,” thought 
Velines. “I will go and see her now.” A taxi- 
cab would be expensive; so he gave up his visit 
to Passy. If only he had an automobile how 
easily he could make the trip! Once more he 
thought of that long-desired vehicle. Then his 
memory of his discussion with his wife returned to 
him. Who was it whose wishes always dominated 
in their house? Was it tenderness or gallantry 
which led him always to concede to Henriette? 
To be sure she was wonderfully intelligent, but 
had she not sometimes abused the privileges he 
gave her? Had not the time come to take the 
reins? Had he no rights? 

That evening he was late at dinner. Henriette, 


286 


Love vs. Law 


accustomed to his ordinary prompt habits, ques- 
tioned him. What she intended for caressing 
words he took for reproaches and replied to with 
temper. “I had important business which kept 
me.'' 

The following day business again prevented 
him from going to Passy. Some clients kept 
him in the Salle des Pas Perdus. Then he went to 
see Lecellier, who was to send away an excellent 
chauffeur. 

After he had heard all about the man, he ap- 
proached the subject of the Mauvert case. 
very interesting trial,” he said. “You will make 
a fine argument. I congratulate you.” 

“Well,” answered Lecellier, raising his large 
blond head with its mass of curls. “Are you to 
be my opponent?” 

Flattered, and taking the word as a good omen, 
Velines smiled mysteriously. “Ah, no! No, in- 
deed. ” 

As he went out, to go to a garage where he had 
agreed to be at a certain hour, he saw, on the 
Boulevard du Palais the back of Thaddee-Mira, 
in the company of a man of huge size whom he 
recognised as George Sylvere. It was settled, 
evidently. The Jew had the case. Velines be- 
came so angry that even the passers-by noticed 
his cross expression and nervous walk. 

On his return to his home he found Henriette 
much disturbed. 

“They disgrace our profession,” she cried. 


Helpmeet or Rival 


287 


‘‘Because a famous artist ran away with the 
mother of a family, every lawyer at the Bar is 
anxious to go before the court and apologise for 
her! It is said now that Thaddee-Mira has the 
case. I call it disgusting. ” 

“At first they thought of me,*’ said Velines. 

“Oh, I hope that you would have refused to 
take a case for a woman who left her husband and 
three children for a lover.” 

“My poor little one! Have you been four 
years at the Palais? You saw me with pleasure 
defend that shameless knave, Abel Lacroix.” 

“The criminal law and the civil law are differ- 
ent,” returned Henriette. “A defaulter, who has 
all society against him, is more than a criminal. 
He becomes a problem.” 

“Oh, the wiles of the feminine heart!” laughed 
Velines. 

At dinner, he said to his wife, casually, “I have 
bought something to-day, which may interest 
you.” 

And when she asked what it was, he replied, 
“I have bought an automobile. I have also 
found a very good chauffeur, Lecellier’s man.” 

“An automobile?” she exclaimed, in great 
excitement. “You said an automobile?” 

“I have needed one for a long time,” said 
Velines. 

“You have done this without consulting me?” 

“My dear,” replied her husband, coldly, “I 
was not consulted in regard to your secretary.” 


288 


Love vs. Law 


From this time, Andre Velines gave himself up 
to work with a sort of desperation. July was dry 
and hot. In the corridors of the Palais, now a 
little deserted, there was an agreeable freshness. 
The audiences dozed peacefully during the argu- 
ments, and the judges yawned; the ushers opened 
the windows, the awnings in front of the large 
shops flapped in the breeze. 

Velines was overwhelmed with work. He 
accepted the smallest cases, on principle, he 
defended the poorest people, and even argued 
a case for Madame Gevigne, who offered him 
twenty dollars for advice which concerned some 
anonymous letters written to her concierge. He 
would have liked to speak in all the courts at 
once, and to have taken all the desperate cases 
so that his voice might continually have been 
heard in the Palais. He took as much pains in 
defending a case which involved a hairpin as in 
disputing over a case which involved thousands 
of francs. He passed his nights in studying the 
legal code, or in thinking out epigrammatic 
phrases, or in solving long, legal conundrums. 
During the day, he drove all over Paris in his 
automobile. On the smooth roads, a little less 
crowded in summer, his machine went with great 
ease and rapidity, and it seemed to his tired body 
that it shared his sentiments, and was in sympathy 
with his mad race for out-distancing all rivals. 

One day, he went to Passy. The gossips had 
spoken the truth, and Madame Marty was very 


Helpmeet or Rival 


289 


ill, but declined to obey her physician, and leave 
Paris and her son. She greeted Velines coldly, 
having felt bitterly toward him since the loss 
of her case. Her dignified sorrow moved him. 
Then he studied her calmly, analysing her grief, 
and trying to find some motive which would 
justify him as a lawyer in reopening the case. 
The beautiful Suzanne was thinner than ever, 
more like a disembodied spirit, and the hair on 
her temples began to look grey. 

The vacation for the court was near, and still 
nothing was heard of the Mauvert trial, except 
that Thaddee-Mira would not defend the mistress 
of Sylvere. A ray of hope came to Andre. His 
sleep was uneasy. The little girl began to get 
her first teeth, and her nights were restless. He 
used this as an excuse to move into another room, 
and shut the door so that he need not hear the 
child's cries. 

For some time Henriette had felt a vague sense 
of depression, which she thought was unreasonable. 
One evening she felt it more intensely and did not 
enjoy the solitude of her own room. While in 
bed she wept and said, “Men can bear very little. 
I would have borne gladly all the care and fret of 
the child's crying, and even given up my sleep, 
if only I could have held Andre's hand. He does 
not suffer as I do, from sleeping in a room alone. " 

Every evening, after the baby was quiet, Hen- 
riette reflected, “To-night he will return to me." 

At the least noise she trembled, and her heart 


19 


290 


Love vs. Law 


beat, and she even slept listening and holding 
her breath. She heard every sound in Andre’s 
room, recognising all his little habits of undressing, 
and even his manner of taking out his sleeve- 
buttons. 

She had received so many confidences from 
other women that she understood well what this 
meant. She knew that love often fades and dies 
after eighteen months of passion. But was 
Andr6 like other men? Had not his affection 
the solid endurance of his Norman character? 
On this belief Henriette stood fast. ^‘Then 
why,” thought she, very simply, “why should he 
cease to love me?” 

At the end of the court year she began to lose 
her energy. At night her child tired her, and 
during the day her consultations kept her mind 
ceaselessly busy. The walk to the Palais was 
fatiguing. She still argued cases, sometimes in 
one court and sometimes in another, but the loss 
of the comradeship and sympathy of her husband 
had taken away her zest for work. She looked 
forward eagerly to a month of vacation. 


The close of the term came, and the Dean of the 
Bar made a farewell discourse to the graduating 
class. He spoke to them of the justice of their cases. 
In the great library, where all the tables had been 
removed for this reunion, he urged them never to 
accept a case which they had to argue against 


Helpmeet or Rival 


291 


their conscience. Then he quoted the great 
writers of the Bar, Loysel, La Roche, Flavin, 
d'Aguesseau; and there was intense conviction 
in his words, as he rolled up his great sleeves and 
said, ^‘My dear brothers, when you are before 
the Bar, speak always as if you wished to be an 
example of honesty and courage.’’ 

The address was received with great applause. 
All the leaders of the Bar were there. The lecture 
ended toward eleven o’clock, and the eager 
young life spread itself throughout the great halls. 
They discussed the older men’s ability, and won- 
dered who would be the next Dean. Many 
thought it would be Lecellier; and while talking, 
they came to the dressing-rooms and left their 
gowns. Crowding against them as they entered 
was a very distinguished-looking man who had 
come to see his lawyer, Lecellier. 

He was sad and timid and was dressed a little 
carelessly, as if he might have been a widower. 
He was not a widower, however, he was Monsieur 
Mauvert. He had married for love a beautiful, 
inconstant woman; he missed her daily in spite 
of what she had made him suffer, and now he was 
left alone to care for his four little girls, the 
youngest less than a year old. 

The Velines were to pass their vacation in 
Normandy. Henriette made her arrangements 
for the journey, directing her three servants about 
the packing. So Andre went alone to the Palais. 
The last day, in the Salle des Pas Perdus, he 


292 


Love vs. Law- 


saw, standing together, the nephew of Chaix-d* 
Est-Ange, Thaddee-Mira, and Lamblin. This 
companionship seemed a little odd to him, 
and he joined them. They spoke of the artist, 
and the woman who had left her husband and 
children for him. Velines asked what there was 
new in the matter. 

“The divorce case comes in the month of 
October before the first court. 

“Who defends the woman?’* 

“Why, you have not heard, my dear?” said 
Thaddee-Mira, who could not conceal his bitter 
disappointment. “ This poor Sylvere intends to 
ruin himself to preserve the honour of the woman. 
He will debase his art in order to satisfy this 
creature’s luxurious tastes. He has given her 
the choice between an aigrette of diamonds, and 
the Chief of the Bar for her counsel. She has 
chosen the more expensive. He will pay 
Fabrezan.” 

Velines was intensely disappointed. He felt 
sure that if he had not been overshadowed by 
Henriette, if her star had not eclipsed his, he 
would have had this case. His wife certainly 
had been forgetful of his interests, and never 
tried to increase his reputation. He felt a secret 
spasm of childish rage; and, after dinner, where 
he had not spoken a word, he shut himself into 
his study, but he was too wrought up to work. At 
ten o’clock he put his papers in order, and went 
to his bedroom. He began to undress, with the 


Helpmeet or Rival 


293 


quick nervous movements of an angry man. Then 
the door opened, and Henriette entered. 

The evening was sultry; through the open win- 
dow the linden-tree in the court-yard seemed 
black and still; not a leaf trembled. Henriette 
was half-dressed, in a wrapper of old linen em- 
broidered with gold, and her pretty arms were 
bare. She came in, as if in haste, with some of 
Andre’s clothing over her arm. Andre,” said 
she, “before packing your trunk I want to ask 
you what you wish to take with you.” 

He did not notice her brilliant eyes or the red 
flush on her cheeks. She bent over, spreading out 
the linen on her knees. Her graceful figure looked 
charming beneath the folds of her gown. Under 
the lamp her hair shone like gold. “Carry what 
you like for me, dearest, you know what I need.” 

“But,” insisted she, “perhaps it will be cold, 
in the month of September, in Normandy. Shall 
I add flannels?” 

“As you wish,” said Andre patiently. “You 
can arrange everything with Narcisse and it will 
suit me.” She emptied her hands. There was a 
moment’s silence, and she crossed her arms. 
From a window in the house was reflected a half 
light in the court, and below voices of invisible 
people were heard. 

“How heavy the air is this evening,” said Hen- 
riette. “I can hardly breathe.” 

Andre, busy revising some notes, said absently, 
“ It is time to leave Paris. ” 


294 


Love vs. Law 


She did not go. Into this man’s room, she had 
brought a breath of delicious feminine perfume. 
Velines did not look at her; he took a pencil, and 
began writing his name. 

'‘When I was a girl,” said the young wife, 
“these warm August nights fired my imagination; 
I dreamt of a great political career. I felt that 
I had a vocation, as a leader of women. Later, 
at seventeen, during the summer evenings, I 
dreamed of being loved by a poor young man who 
did not dare speak of his passion; then in my 
thought, I went to him, I kissed him on his fore- 
head, I promised him happiness.” 

“Those were the dreams of an ambitious 
woman,” interrupted Velines, punching his nail 
with the gold edge of his memorandum book. 
“You wished a humble, timid subservient lover; 
one who came on his knees.” 

“Oh, no!” asserted Henriette, sadly. “I am not 
a proud, conceited woman.” 

“You think not,” said Velines, ironically. 

They remained silent a long time. 

Henriette sat, like an Amazon, on the window- 
seat. Andre maintained a sullen silence, not 
looking at her. 

Presently she continued, “When I was older, 
and had my law-degree, other dreams came to 
me, on such nights as this; and I knew that often 
intellectual women are not appreciated by men. 
I dreaded solitude, and feared to die without love*. 
I realised then my need of being loved. ” 


Helpmeet or Rival 


295 


She finished half aloud, as if to herself. Andre 
rose. Henriette made the same movement, and 
they stood not far apart. 

Henriette made one more effort. ‘‘The little 
one is asleep, her eyes are shut, and I can hear 
nothing. 

“Good-night, my dear,” said Andr6 bending 
towards her. 

“ Good-night, Andre. ” 

He took her by the shoulders, and kissed her, 
and then noticed that she was trembling. 

“I have taken cold by the window,” she said. 

She made a step towards her room, hesitated a 
moment, and then returning towards her husband 
asked, “You sleep well — here, all alone?” 

“I am tired and I sleep soundly, ” said he. 

She departed reluctantly; near the door she 
paused, her face white and her eyes brilliant. She 
began to say something; but she did not finish it — 
and disappeared. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A mother's transgression 
ITTLE Marcel Alembert now occupied the 



room which his father, in his loneliness, had 
prepared for him. There he ruled like a child 
king, yet he was a little melancholy, for all this 
luxury and attention did not replace the loving 
atmosphere of a simple home. 

Since coming, in October, he had passed his 
fourth examination in Condorcet. The engineer de- 
lighted in his fatherly duties, and awoke him early 
every morning, greeted him affectionately, and 
then insisted on his getting up promptly, hoping 
to efface the effeminate impressions made by his 
mother. He did not show the boy much demon- 
stration and affection, but the boy perceived that 
his father’s severity was largely assumed. 

While he took his bath and splashed in the 
cold water, his father glanced over the daily 
lessons. While dressing, Marcel had to recite 
his review. His chocolate was brought to him, 
upstairs, so that not a moment should be lost. 

In spite of his many engagements, the engineer 
never missed having his meals with his son; and 


A Mother’s Transgression 297 


he tried to talk on subjects suitable for his age, 
and to mingle judiciously pleasure and work. 
Every Sunday there was some new entertain- 
ment. His father watched his progress as care- 
fully as a tutor. One of his old friends begged 
him to consider a second marriage, with a charming 
young girl, but he put aside the idea, fearing that 
his son would suffer from a second marriage; 
and he felt that in this refusal he was partly 
atoning for his sin. 

Although surrounded with attentions, Marcel 
lived a reserved, lonely life. He was too sensitive 
not to be conscious of the adoring love of his 
father, yet he received it coldly, scarcely knowing 
whether it was agreeable to him or not. He was 
far in advance, in his studies, for his years; so 
Alembert did not send him to board at the high 
school where he went daily for his lessons. He left 
the boy much liberty, and, thinking that Marcel 
would wish to hear from his mother at other times 
than his Thursday interviews, he said ,“My child, 
you may write to your mamma when you like, 
without telling me.” 

But he noticed that notwithstanding this per- 
mission, the little boy received no letters; and 
he was hurt at his wife’s lack of confidence. The 
extreme politeness of his son troubled him. He 
had imagined a friendly intimacy, and that 
he would be able to mould this little being as he 
liked. He found, instead, a resigned and reserved 
manner in his son which chilled him. He would 


298 


Love vs. Law 


have preferred open revolt, or some stormy scene, 
. which would have let him see inside his son’s 
nature. Although Marcel obeyed his father, 
accompanied him on his walks, and gave him his 
forehead to kiss, yet he always seemed to be saying, 
“You see I obey you, because I must.” And the 
warm-hearted man said to himself bitterly, “I 
have lost my child.” 

At the first touch of winter, the engineer caught 
cold and had “ La Grippe. ” This illness, although 
not serious, often causes depression. Marcel, on 
his return from school, came daily to ask after him. 
One day, in a mood of depression, Alembert 
asked, “Ah, how would you like it if I had a fever 
and left you? Then you could arrange things 
to suit yourself. ” 

Marcel left the room, very pale; and he looked 
so miserable all day, that his father regretted his 
idle words. That same evening he found an enve- 
lope addressed to him which his son had timidly 
sent. It was a real letter. The father’s hand 
trembled as he read it. “Why were you so harsh 
to me this morning? What wrong have I done? 
How can you think that I do not love you? I 
notice all your kindness. You are a good father. 
I have, however, the right to be sad sometimes; 
but, please, do not hurt my feelings by saying such 
dreadful things.” 

These careful words, written by a sensitive 
child, touched Alembert, and revealed to him 
unexplored depths in the soul of his son. Some- 


A Mother’s Transgression 299 

times, when Marcel was ready for bed, his father 
would seize him, and almost strangle him in his 
arms, and Marcel would perhaps give up his 
reserve for a moment, and be unable to restrain 
his tears. 

Some days later, the engineer, now recovered, 
passed by the school in the Rue Caumartin, at 
the time when the boys were going home. It was 
a fresh delightful morning, yet it had the melan- 
choly of all Indian summer days, and a few clouds 
veiled the sun. Alembert decided to surprise 
his boy, and take him for a brisk walk. The 
younger of the children were already racing each 
other out of the building, like a troop of wild 
animals; but he soon discovered the English cap, 
set on the chestnut hair of Marcel. Then he 
felt amazed at the haste of the usually quiet 
child, in crowding through the older children to 
get out before them. His father tried to call him, 
but in vain; the boy had rushed ahead, and was 
soon blocks away. 

Alembert started to follow him. At the corner 
of the Boulevard Haussmann Marcel stopped. 
His father noticed the stop, and saw him turn his 
head to the right and left. What was he looking 
for ? He started in the direction of the Opera house. 
Not far away he saw a coupe standing near the 
sidewalk; the child looked in at the window, the 
door opened. With one leap, he was in the car- 
riage, and the door was shut. 

Alembert remained motionless. Everything 


300 


Love vs. Law 


around him seemed to spin; even the pavement 
under his feet was unsteady. He felt as the woman 
does who suddenly discovers that the man 
she loves is unfaithful. For he had recognised 
Suzanne’s coupe. Both mother and son combined 
to deceive him. They had their meetings on 
the boulevard not far from him. He at first 
wished to be brutal, and force open the carriage 
door, and surprise this woman who by her caresses 
knew so well how to steal his son’s heart away from 
him. For he felt sure that this reserved boy, who 
held himself so coldly toward his father, and never 
gave way to an impulse of affection, was like a 
little baby, in the arms of his mother. She pitied 
him, and made him think she was a martyr, and 
his father their enemy. 

People crowded by him in the street ; little carts 
passed, filled with roses and violets. The boule- 
vard teemed with abundant life. Some of the 
trees were still as green as if it were spring. 
The lonely man looked about him sadly, and 
thought of his deserted home. 

The idea of a second marriage did not appeal 
to him. He had not been able to win back his 
son’s heart. The coupe turned slowly at the 
corner of the Rue Caumartin. Without thinking, 
the father took a side street, and went back to his 
house. He found himself at the door of the eleva- 
tor with Marcel. The latter appeared much as 
usual, but the engineer had not been able to 
compose himself so readily. 


A Mother" s Transgression 301 


In the narrow little elevator, in which they went 
to their apartment, the engineer felt suffocated. 
He breathed so rapidly that his son noticed it. 
^‘How they had deceived him! So they saw each 
other secretly every day and then pretended to be 
resigned. But he would not endure this false 
situation. ” Then he thought over different ways 
of letting Marcel see that he knew all. He post- 
poned doing this through lunch, and the meal took 
place in absolute silence. At two o’clock Marcel 
returned to school. During the whole afternoon, 
the father brooded over these clandestine meet- 
ings between the mother and son. 

Little by little his wrath cooled, and he began 
to feel sympathy for this unhappy child, whose 
affections were so cruelly divided. What had the 
father to complain of? Marcel loved Suzanne; 
Alembert could easily appreciate this chivalrous 
devotion to a young, lovely, and injured mother. 
Was he to be treated as a criminal, because he 
had stolen a secret kiss from such a mother? 
These brief clandestine meetings, between mother 
and son, seemed to him almost pathetic. 

At dinner, that evening, the engineer did not 
question Marcel, but talked with him in a friendly 
way, on a variety of subjects. He had almost 
decided not to mention his discovery. Yet these 
meetings between the mother and son troubled him. 
Suzanne already had the child’s heart, and not 
only on Thursdays but on every day, when school 
ended, she renewed her influence over him. 


302 


Love vs. Law 


Twice Alembert watched the interviews from a 
distance. Sometimes he had a wild desire to 
punish his son severely, or to carry him away on 
a long journey, and keep him wholly to himself. 
One day he went to Fabrezan, and told him the 
whole story. 

The Dean of the Bar expressed his surprise by 
a variety of excited gestures, and then said, 
‘‘This is a very delicate matter. What can the 
court do, in a case like this? You are quite right 
not to have mentioned it to the boy. Can a boy 
of thirteen change his master and his home, as 
easily as does a dog? This child has already 
developed a strong personality. You should 
remember that these changes are especially bad 
for him, at his present impressionable age. I 
advise you to place him, as a day boarder, at 
Condorcet. You could easily explain matters to 
him by saying that your business prevented your 
returning home at noon. You could always send 
for your son at night by a trustworthy maid, 
and you could give as a reason that it was not 
safe to have the child out alone so late.” 

“I can go after him, myself,” said Alem- 
bert. 

“An excellent plan. Then you could not 
be accused of cruelty toward Madame Marty, 
who has a right to your consideration. Your 
divorce, like so many others, was a folly. You 
are, both, honourable, high-minded people, and 
yet your Hves are ruined. ” 


A Mother’s Transgression 303 


“Well — what is to be done about it, now?” 
asked Alembert. 

^‘Nothing, my friend. I was only thinking 
aloud. 


CHAPTER XIV 


MAN PUTS ASUNDER 


HE Velines returned to Paris, after their two 



1 months in the country, and settled again in 
their home; the week after, the courts began 
their autumn sessions. 

They arrived in their automobile one October 
evening, when the fires in the cafes, and the early 
lighting of the Paris streets and shops, suggested 
winter. 

The servants found the baby much changed, 
and Madame Velines looked a little delicate, in 
her long dark fur coat. As to Monsieur Velines, 
he was well browned, and looked as if he had been 
living out of doors all the time. 

They began immediately their usual life, going 
daily to the Palais, but not so often together. 
One was now apt to follow behind the other. 
They both received, regularly, clients in their sep- 
arate studies. Madame Martinal again took her 
position as secretary, and it was said of her, “She 
looks much better for her holiday.” Indeed, she 
delighted to talk of her month at the sea-shore 
with her three little boys, whose pleasure had been 


Man Puts Asunder 


305 


such a joy to her. She was proud to feel that her 
earnings could not only provide bread for her 
little ones, but luxuries also. 

Often, while seated at Henriette’s desk with a 
law-book in her hand, as they discussed some legal 
point, she diverted the conversation to other 
channels by recalling some of her children’s 
sayings, during those brilliant September days 
near the sea. 

‘‘You are a happy woman, Madame Martinal, ” 
sighed Henriette. 

One day the widow ventured, “You need not 
pretend to envy me.” 

“ Yes, I know, you think of my success. Do you 
ever realize that success does not always satisfy 
the soul?” 

“But you have so much more than success. 
Your cup runs over.” 

“There are times perhaps, when I am completely 
satisfied,” replied Henriette, dreamily. 

“What is the matter?” inquired the secretary 
of herself; and then she began to perceive that 
underneath all this apparent happiness there were 
concealed the elements of a grim tragedy. 

In spite of the daily intimacy between the two 
women, and their long discussions over the cases 
of their clients, they rarely exchanged personal 
confidences. They talked over crimes and divorce 
questions freely, but they never laid bare the 
secrets of their own hearts. 

When Madame Martinal once began to suspect 


20 


3o6 


Love vs. Law 


that Madame Velines was not as radiantly happy 
as she had imagined, she eagerly sought for the 
cause. 

Was she romantic and restless, dissatisfied with 
the love of one man? Had her notoriety turned 
her head, so that she was dissatisfied with the 
love of serious-minded Velines? Or did she love 
some one else? Madame Martinal’s sympathy 
was with Velines. She appreciated his intel- 
lectual powers, his simplicity of nature, and his 
consistent conduct. Velines, on his side, respected 
his wife's secretary, and thought her intelligent, 
tactful, and kind-hearted. 

The unhappy husband, like a celibate or a wid- 
ower, unburdened his heart to the first sympathetic 
woman, old or young, who seemed to understand 
him. Occasionally, when Henriette was detained 
by her cases, Andre opened the door of his study 
near him, and talked with the secretary. “You 
are alone here, I see?” 

Then they discussed a thousand things, going 
from questions concerning a reform in the code 
to questions concerning the latest style in hats. 
Chiefly, however, they talked about the Palais, 
the Bar, and the judges. Velines even occasion- 
ally asked a little help from his wife’s secretary. 
Many times she went for him, in the automobile 
as far as the house of the wretched Madame 
Gevigne. Both were interested in the silly story 
of the anonymous letters. His client accused the 
concierge of having written them. Velines pre- 


Man Puts Asunder 


307 


tended to disapprove the peals of laughter which 
came from the secretary when she read over the 
absurd and slanderous correspondence. Once, 
when she carried the letters to an expert in hand- 
writing, she was taken for Madame Velines, and 
the old professor of chirography urged her to let 
him decipher her handwriting. 

It was most amusing for the concierge to have 
chosen Servais to defend him. Andre was to 
have him as an adversary. Servais had demanded 
an interview at Place Dauphine, to look over the 
letters. He acted exactly like an expert in hand- 
writing. He arrived one afternoon at the ap- 
pointed hour, his eyes burning like coals; his 
complexion was colourless, and he continually 
brushed aside his thick dark hair with his fever- 
ish hand, showing in every movement the tension 
of his nervous emotional temperament. He was 
accused by his fellow-lawyers of often losing 
control of himself. 

Velines admired his young opponent, but felt 
that it would not be difficult to win his case from 
him. Madame Martinal was present while the 
two lawyers discussed their case together, and 
carefully observed Maurice Servais, whose love 
affairs had created so much gossip in the judicial 
world during the past year. 

The summer before, he had been out of Paris. 
The truth was that Fabrezan had added him to 
his corps of secretaries, when he went to try an im- 
portant case in Marseilles. That was all that the 


3o8 


Love vs. Law 


outside world knew, except that Louise Pernette 
no longer spoke of giving up her profession, 
and the handsome Isabelle G6ronce was not seen 
so often in the Palais. The intimacy between 
Louise and Maurice Servais was not renewed in 
public, and the Galerie Saint Louis was no longer 
held sacred to the interviews of these young 
lovers. Every Monday Louise defended a num- 
ber of Mademoiselle Angely’s juvenile criminals; 
but the happy smile had not returned to her full 
generous lips. 

Servais, with the enthusiasm of youth, upheld 
the innocence of the concierge. He had also seen 
an expert in handwriting, and he came to compare 
results with Velines. Each expert made a solemn 
dogmatic statement. According to Madame 
Gevigne’s expert, the concierge had written the 
letters; according to the expert of the opposite 
side, he had not written them. The lawyers 
looked at each other with amusement. Madame 
Martinal was ready to rally valiantly to the 
support of the old expert whom she had 
interviewed. 

Meantime, Henriette had four or five clients 
waiting in the parlour. Her life was active and 
serious, and she had many heavy responsibilities. 
An important divorce case had come to her 
recently. Foreign journals asked for her photo- 
graph. An enterprising reporter had come from 
London to interview her. There was continual 
curiosity concerning her personality, and prominent 


Man Puts Asunder 


309 


men consulted her about serious cases. Despite 
all these honours, her cheeks looked pale, and her 
eyes heavy; and Madame Martinal sometimes 
discovered her passionately embracing her child, 
as though the love of this little one were her 
only source of happiness. 

“ Velines is, however, a charming man, ’’ thought 
the widow. 

As Andre grew more intimate with Madame 
Martinal, he grew to admire her more and more. 
She lived wholly for her three children, and seemed 
absolutely free from personal vanity. She aroused 
in Andre a certain filial sentiment. He com- 
plained to her when his head ached; he told her 
of every little household annoyance, and of his 
petty trials with the newspaper editors. She 
knew when he was out of condition, and depressed 
or discontented with himself. She knew also 
when he had lost a case, or when he was disap- 
pointed in not getting one. As she grew to under- 
stand him, she discovered underneath his great 
reserve a bitter discontent with life. With her 
good humour and undaunted courage, she ad- 
dressed him one day. ''What is the matter, 
V61ines? Is not life worth living?" 

"Oh," replied he, with a gesture of discourage- 
ment, "life is a horrible farce." 

"Our life?" protested Madame Martinal, in- 
dignantly, ' ' our life ? ’ ^ 

" Yes ! " answered Velines. "When we begin life 
we fancy it will be beautiful, grand, like the dreams 


310 


Love vs. Law 


of our youth ; and then we discover that it is only 
a narrow thorny path, which leads to a cemetery. ” 

“Oh,” sighed the sad little widow. “How 
dare you complain? You two have each other. 
You are together, and you love each other.” 

At these words Velines turned his head away 
without replying, and his lips trembled. Then 
Madame Martinal understood that something had 
happened to separate these people. They no 
longer lived for each other, or made each other 
happy. She felt as though she had seen something 
exquisitely beautiful, hopelessly ruined. 

“What can have happened?” she reflected. 
For the young couple concealed their estrangement 
with proud dignity, and let no one, even under their 
own roof, suspect that their marriage was a failure. 
Velines gave his wife all the outward attentions 
of an affectionate husband; but she had really 
become simply a companion, toward whom he 
felt no active dislike; and between them was an 
insuperable barrier, preventing all intimacy. Their 
paths in life ran in parallel lines, but never met. 
They discussed their common interests without 
bitterness, they exchanged conventional greet- 
ings and kisses. Velines worked hard over the 
petty details of insignificant cases, while his wife 
had the important business. She worked desper- 
ately, and buried her sorrow as if it were her shame. 
Her husband did not love another woman, but he 
simply had become weary of her; and all the joy 
of her youth seemed to have departed. Andrd 


Man Puts Asunder 


311 

concealed his feelings, and hoped that his wife 
would never know the injury she had done his 
career. One day, as she held on her lap their 
little girl, she said to the child, ''Will you be a 
lawyer some day, dearest?” 

"Oh, no! No! Never!” exclaimed Andre. 

Henriette thought that this was a revelation; 
Andre believed her too much absorbed in her 
profession. Men are selfish, and wish a woman to 
stay always at home, as they did in the good 
old times. Perhaps he disliked the publicity 
of her work, and thought her life too much like 
the life of an actress. She had met many men 
who objected to their wives doing work outside 
the house. 

" Do you reproach me for having a profession?” 
asked she, quivering with excitement. 

"I reproach you for nothing, dear friend,” 
he replied with frigid politeness. In despair, 
Henriette, in her turn, felt her love for her husband 
begin to diminish. 


One December evening, dinner over, Henriette 
and Andre went to their separate studies, when 
they heard a long ring at the door. The bell 
vibrated like an alarm clock, and surprised them 
both . They rushed out into the adjoining room 
together, for the ring had seemed to presage 
something unusual. 


312 


Love vs. Law 


They saw, hurrying toward them, Madame 
Marty, with a simple mantilla over her head, and 
an old fur cloak, unbuttoned and thrown round 
her. She looked pale under the light and ex- 
claimed, * ‘ Oh , my friends ! My friends ! Give me 
some advice quickly!” 

Even when her son had been taken away from 
her she had seemed less excited and more self- 
possessed. She hurried into the little parlour, 
shut the door, and cried, ‘'He has returned to 
me.” 

At first they both thought that she referred to 
her husband. But she soon made herself under- 
stood. It was Marcel, who had come back to 
her, only two hours before, wholly unexpected. 
She described how she felt when she saw him 
outside the door, trembling and holding out his 
arms, and crying, “My dear Mamma, I defy 
courts and tribunals. Is it the business of these 
people if I wish to remain with you and you wish 
to have me? What fault have you committed 
that the one you love best should be taken from 
you? Take me, Mamma! Take me! I believe 
that no one in the world has the right to separate 
us.” The reason for all this excitement was that 
Alembert had put him, as a day boarder, in the 
Lycee, and the poor child had suffered agonies 
of loneliness. 

She omitted speaking of her daily meetings 
with the boy, believing that she was the only 
person who knew of them. “He suffered too 


Man Puts Asunder 


313 


much,*’ she said, with difficulty concealing her 
admiration for the boy. “He determined to come 
and live with me. Is not his will-power remark- 
able for a boy of his age? Comiing out of the 
Lycee this evening, while his father waited for 
him as usual, he crossed by way of the Rue 
Havre, leaped into a cab, and came at once to 
Passy. And you know that I have not permitted 
him to come to my house, for fear that he would 
be taken away from me for ever. See ! There he 
is, outside in my carriage; but what shall I do 
about him, my friends?” 

Henriette was silent. She thought this a bad 
move in their case. “You must send the child 
back,” she suggested. 

“Excuse me!” said her husband, secretly de- 
lighted in opposing her. “Here is the new situa- 
tion which I have wished for. This will be splendid 
material for a new trial. No. Do not send him 
back. Refuse to do it. And then we will carry 
the case once more before the courts. We can 
show the great intelligence of this boy, whom 
all his masters praise, and we can show how, after 
having been given by the courts, first to his mother 
and then to his father, he suddenly determines 
to defy arrest, overcomes all obstacles, and, by a 
deliberate choice, returns to his mother’s roof. 
Can we not see in this wise boy’s choice of a home 
an indication of absolute justice? Let us bring 
this matter before the courts again!” 

“That is splendid,” responded Suzanne, de- 


314 


Love vs. Law 


lighted. ^^And we shall be sure, this time, to 
gain our case. ” 

Henriette spoke again. ^‘Has your son com- 
plained of his father? Has he good reasons for 
wishing to change his home again?” 

^‘Complained! My dear friend, he adores his 
father. While we were dining together, to-night, 
I saw him wiping away a tear; and he said, ‘I am 
thinking of my poor father, who will suffer so 
much in my leaving him.’ And then I, a little 
annoyed, answered, but if you love your father 
so much, why did you not stay with him? He said, 
‘I am fated to make one of you suffer, and it 
seems more just that it should be my father, 
because he has caused you so much pain.’ You 
see, Marcel possesses that strange sense of justice 
which we often see in children; in passing by the 
post-office, he begged me to permit him to send a 
telegram to his father. I consented, for I knew 
that in looking for his son, Alembert would surely 
send first to me for him, and I have no desire to 
make the poor man suffer uselessly. ” 

“How did he word the despatch?” asked the 
lawyer, already planning his argument in the case. 

“‘Do not be anxious, papa. I am with mam- 
ma. Marcel.’” 

Henriette approved the brevity of the despatch, 
which had not one compromising word. “That 
despatch is most important,” she explained, “for 
the lawyer on the other side will try to use it.” 
Then she spoke of the coming trial. They should 


Man Puts Asunder 


315 


begin preparations for the case at once. Madame 
Marty should see the judge the next day. 

'‘Mon Dieu!” sighed the divorcee. “To go all 
over this again, again!’’ 

She seemed worn out, physically and mentally. 
Her pride was almost gone. She had lost her 
coquettish manner of carrying herself. She no 
longer appeared to rejoice at being free from her 
husband’s control. While Henriette noticed these 
things she also remembered how much her friend 
had accomplished, in preserving her high ideals 
of marriage. Privately, she had great respect for 
Madame Marty’s courage, and longed to devote 
herself to her interests, and to undertake again 
the charge of her case. “My dear Suzanne,” 
she said, “you are so brave and strong-minded, 
that you are not going to hesitate now.” 

“ I am not brave, my friend, I am crushed. All 
I want or wish, for the future, is to find some quiet 
resting-place, where I can live undisturbed, near 
my child.” 

“I will be with you, to encourage and advise 
you. Trust in me. Your lawyer is your defender, 
you know. Lean on me!” 

At this moment Velines rose. He was pale, 
and he looked alternately at Henriette and at 
Madame Marty. Then he said, “Let us decide 
now, my dear, for we must understand each other. 
To which of us has Madame Marty given the 
charge of her case?” 

“Why, of course to me,” exclaimed Henriette, 


3i6 


Love vs. Law 


hastily, without thinking of her husband’s dis- 
appointment. 

Madame Marty blushed. She remembered 
Velines’s many visits to her, his many questions 
concerning the case, and his suggestion of a new 
reason for re-opening it. For hours together he 
had been with her trying to find some effective 
method of presenting the facts, if they succeeded 
in having a new trial. Nevertheless, to-day, it 
was to Madame Velines that she had intended to 
give her case in spite of the fact that Monsieur 
Velines had originated the plan. 

“After the death of Master Bertigny,” she 
explained, “I was forced to choose a new lawyer, 
and decided to take a woman, and above all 
Mademoiselle Marcadieu. Since then, dear friend, 
I have had no reason to change. Henriette’s 
illness prevented her pleading at the last trial, 
but now she is well again, and it is on her that I 
count for this case. You both have my confidence 
and affection — you understand that, Velines.” 

“I understand you perfectly, dear Madame 
Marty,” replied Andre, who had quickly recovered 
his self-control. 

When Henriette took her client into her study, 
to make some notes on the case, Madame Marty 
smiled cordially on Velines, and gave him her 
hand to kiss — as was her habit; and he was left 
alone, in the small reception-room with the 
white hangings. 

The large city was now dark and silent. The 


Man Puts Asunder 


317 


Place Dauphine was in the ancient quarter of 
Paris, and at night it was nearly deserted; every 
sound reverberated on its worn irregular pave- 
ments. Velines lifted the curtain, and moodily 
stared out into the blackness of the night. He 
cooled the burning palms of his hands against the 
window-panes, and did not attempt to conceal 
his agitation. Toward the right, he saw the edge 
of the cornice of the Palais, and some of the arches 
of the Quai de THorloge. Then he thought of the 
long trial of Abel Lacroix, which had given him a 
little of the fame he coveted, and of the moment 
after the judge’s decision when he really held the 
undivided attention of the entire audience. The 
blood had leaped swiftly through his veins that 
day, and he could recall the admiring curiosity 
in the faces of the audience who turned round to 
look at him. He had seemed to them a superior 
being, who had dominated the rest of the world. 
He was to them a master, an oracle. For a brief 
time, he had a place among the great orators of 
the Palais. 

And now — what was becoming of the reputa- 
tion he had worked for so patiently? He clenched 
his fists in rage, as he thought of himself buried 
in the grey ashes of meritorious mediocrity, 
returning to the obscurity out of which it had 
cost him such a long struggle to emerge. To-day 
people only said of him, “ The husband of Madame 
Velines!” He was the victim of an optical 
illusion, common to the public always. An object 


Love vs. Law 


318 

of vision, very near, attracted all eyes. He was 
forgotten. These trifling cases which he tried 
were only injuring his reputation. He was becom- 
ing a second-rate lawyer, and losing his prestige. 
Cases such as that of Madame Gevigne did not 
add to a lawyer’s reputation. Then he thought 
of this new Marty trial, which had occupied his 
mind for so many months. He had longed for 
it, waited for it, looked forward to it as perhaps 
giving him a wholly new start in his profession; 
and now his wife had laid her hands upon it, 
and eagerly snatched it away from him. 

Just then, Henriette appeared, alone, much 
excited by her talk with Madame Marty. “We 
must have notice given, on Thursday, I suppose. ” 

But her husband stopped her abruptly, standing 
before her, with his arms crossed: “Well — are 
you satisfied? I congratulate you, my dear. 
You are wonderfully clever in taking away cases 
from your brother-lawyers ; you are sure to 
succeed.” 

“What!” she asked, innocently, “did you wish 
to argue that case this time?” 

“I thought that I had for many reasons the 
right to argue the case. Evidently I was mis- 
taken. Excuse me for having interfered in the 
smallest degree!” 

Henriette noticed that his face showed angry 
emotions, and she exclaimed, sadly, “Oh, you 
wanted the case?” 

Then he lost his self-control, and his long 


Man Puts Asunder 


319 


suppressed bitter feelings burst forth into a passion 
of anger. His face was pale as death, it looked 
almost like a death-mask; yet his great body, 
towering over his young wife, shook with rage 
as he cried in a voice vibrating with wrath, “Yes, 
I wanted it. Yes, I wanted it, because you are 
a selfish wife, and have never loved me. No, 
you have never loved me; you have loved your 
own ambition and your pride. When I told you 
of my love, did you not hesitate to take my name 
because you hated to lose yours, of Henriette 
Marcadieu, which was beginning to be known in 
the judicial world? Scarcely were we engaged 
when you forbade me to discuss your cases with 
you. I know now that you did not wish to share 
your glory, or to assist me to make a reputation. 
You have deprived me of the affectionate sym- 
pathy a husband has a right to expect from a wife, 
and refused to allow me to have any share in your 
work. Is not this true? ” His contracted eyebrows 
and his fierce expression altered his whole face. 

“I had a right to do it,” retorted Henriette, 
with an air of defiance. “Why should I lose my 
personality in yours? Why should I give up 
my profession? I am a reasonable being, and 
your equal.” 

“These were your thoughts, I doubt not, at 
a time when other young girls, simple and lov- 
ing and full of tenderness without reserve, were 
ready to give themselves wholly to their avowed 
husbands. ” 


320 


Love vs. Law 


“You are unjust. I have given you my whole 
heart.” 

“ It was your whole personality that I wished to 
have. But, once married, you began to look at me 
coldly and grudge me my success. You began to 
count our clients and the number of our consul- 
tations, desiring to compete with me. And when, 
with your grace and charm and youth, you won a 
greater number of clients than I had, you were 
proud of this, and glad to be your husband’s 
successful rival. Is not this true? Speak!” 

“And what if I have done this? ” cried Henriette, 
weary with having all these brutal words thrown 
at her by a man who was beside himself with 
anger, a man whom she had known before only as 
courteous and affectionate and self-controlled. 
Then, finding that she was too weak to stand, she 
took a chair, and continued, “Well, suppose that 
I do enjoy my success — success which is much 
harder for a woman than for a man to win, — 
what wrong have I done? Did I promise to give 
up my work for you? When you loved me you 
were proud of my success. Did I realise that I 
could please you only by losing my personality?” 

He was silent, upsetting the furniture that stood 
in his way as he walked up and down the room. 
Then he went back to Henriette, and deliberately 
examined her pretty delicate body and fine head, 
as if to exult in the fact that she belonged to him, 
and he could do with her as he liked. “I have 
never asked you to clear the path for me, or to 


Man Puts Asunder 


321 


lose your personality in mine. I have scrupu- 
lously respected your profession. But you, with 
the duplicity of your sex, have ruined my career, 
have taken all the large cases, and left me only 
those which injure my reputation.” 

“What have I to do with your practice?” 

“What have you done this very evening?” 

“Andre, Andre,” cried she at last, “I believe 
that you are jealous of me.” 

This was the last straw. “Oh, you poor child!” 
he said, making a gesture of disdain. But, 
turning round he caught sight of his own angry 
reflection in the glass, and he was almost afraid 
of it. After that he attempted to regain his self- 
control, and tried to stop the swift pulsation of 
his heart. He sat down in an arm-chair and re- 
mained silent a long time. 

“I have loved you much,” cried Henriette, 
“but perhaps I have never understood you. You 
were cold, and concentrated on your work, but 
no wife has ever loved more deeply. When you 
were ill, I wished to die with you. To give you 
confidence in yoiu: recovery and from my love, 
I even kissed your lips when you had diphtheria.” 

Then she smiled with bitterness, adding, “And 
where is this beautiful love of ours to-day?” 

The truth of the situation came to her very 
slowly, but in time she faced it. What had 
separated them in their home life, had not been 
selfish indifference, but warring ambitions and 
professional jealousy. 


31 


322 


Love vs. Law 


What a galling chain it was, that fastened her 
to this man who was now her rival. After this, 
what a wretched married life theirs must always 
be! Then she envied Suzanne her independence. 
She, at least, was free and rejoiced in her freedom. 

The voice of her husband, made her tremble, 
as he continued, “When we married, I brought 
you a rare gift, the absolutely pure affection of a 
man of thirty. I not only loved you — I adored 
you — if you had only valued my love. ” 

“So,” said she, in the aggressive tone which 
Madame Surgeres’s pupils prided themselves on, 
‘‘I suppose I ought to have been happy to have 
lived as your petted, much-loved slave, in the 
Oriental fashion, as your obscure companion, as 
the child- wife whom you protected. What wrong 
have I ever done, except to have a talent for law, 
and to develop and exercise my intelligence and 
enjoy my success? I have rejoiced in my success, 
but I have worked for it, and have not I as much 
right to fame as you have? If we are rivals, 
and one of us ought to efface himself, on what 
ground do you insist that I should be the one to do 
it?” 

“On the ground of common-sense — which we 
cannot discuss even, without making ourselves 
ridiculous. The woman who dominates in her 
household covers the man, the head of the family, 
with shame. When this natural law which gives 
the man strength and authority is done away with, 
then energetic women will perhaps take their 


Man Puts Asunder 


323 


places. Until then, the man ought to direct and 
care for her; and until that time comes, the men 
who in their homes or in their professions, take 
inferior positions, are despised by the world. Do 
you hear, Henriette?” 

After his fearful outbreak of anger, he grew 
gradually calmer. His face, always pale, regained 
its former calm expression. His stern lips, high 
forehead, and fine nose and chin, recalled the 
busts of the early Roman emperors, which we see 
in old museums. He looked proud, disdainful, 
and sullen. 

Speaking half-sarcastically, Henriette said, ‘H 
see what you mean. My cases have received more 
attention than have yours. My fame annoys you. 
I have now too important a position in the Palais. 
You would like to have me clear the path for you 
and obliterate myself. ” 

ask nothing, my dear. Go on, follow out 
your career!** 

Henriette replied, frigidly, Certainly I shall 
follow out my career with dignity and courage, 
as my conscience directs. I owe it to my own 
development and I shall not give up my aims, or 
submerge my personality in that of any man. 
But do not be afraid, my friend, I shall not trouble 
you, nor injure your career any longer. ” 

Then Henriette thought of Suzanne Marty. 
Suzanne was free from these irksome matrimonial 
chains. The taking her old name occurred to 
her — the name which had stood for her first 


324 


Love vs. Law 


professional success. It seemed to her like 
assuming again the insignia of her intellectual 
power. 

After this stormy interview, they separated in 
silence. He felt crushed to earth, but she was 
exalted by her new dream of freedom. 


Book II 


CHAPTER XV 

THE SUPER-WOMAN 

‘‘NTO, sir,’* Narcisse answered, bowing low in 
^ courteous fashion, ‘‘Madame is not at 
home. I am sorry Monsieur’s plans are upset ; but 
Monsieur Velines left this morning on his way to 
Rouen, and Madame went home this evening to 
her parents who live on the Rue de Grenville, tak- 
ing the little girl and the nurse. Monsieur Velines 
will probably be away only about a week; but 
Madame did not say when she would return.” 

Fabrezan-Castagnac, who had come to see 
Henriette, was standing on the stone balcony of 
the old house, leaning on the iron rail beside 
which hung a jardiniere filled with flowers. By 
temperament always a trifle theatrical, he drew 
back, made a sweeping gesture with one hand, 
and then asked in a commanding tone, “Is not 
Madame Velines going to be at her office this 
evening, for consultations?” 

“No, Monsieur, everybody who wishes to see 
Madame must go to Monsieur Marcadieu’s 
house.” 


325 


326 


Love vs. Law 


At that moment, behind the valet appeared his 
wife, the cook, a clever young person, who saw that 
something was the matter, and thought it time to 
interfere. So she put on a look suitable for the 
occasion, that expression of sorrow and mystery, 
which servants often wear when something un- 
fortunate happens in a family, and which tells 
far more than words about the proverbial family 
skeleton. 

If Monsieur Fabrezan cares to go to her father’s 
house,” she suggested, ‘‘he might find her there. 
Her secretary is busy, downstairs; her office has, 
of course, been moved. Then her face took on a 
mournful expression. “Monsieur knows every- 
thing.” 

Fabrezan stood dumbfounded. He could only 
stammer, “Very well, yes indeed, thank you for 
telling me. ” Still, he did not depart. “ Monsieur 
Velines will not return until after to-morrow?” 
he finally inquired. 

“No, Monsieur, I am sorry to say,” and the 
cook sighed, shrugging her shoulders in a resigned 
manner. Then, knowing how long the visitor 
had been intimate with her master, she continued 
in a confidential tone, with lowered eyes. “We 
are most unfortunate. Monsieur Fabrezan.” 

But the elderly leader of the Bar merely raised 
his left hand, which was encased in a woollen mit- 
ten. Despite his fiery Southern temperament he 
could, on occasion, adopt a quiet, almost parental 
manner. “Well, well,” he said mildly, “don’t 


The Super-Woman 


327 


be discouraged!” And he hastened downstairs 
at once, to give his chauffeur the address of the 
Marcadieu house. 

In the Rue de Grenville, to which he was speedily 
whirled, he recognised the old office which Hen- 
riette had occupied before she was married. The 
best furniture in it had been carried over to the 
Place Dauphine; but there were still those same 
busts of great poets, musicians, and painters, 
whom in the enthusiasm of youth she had loved 
to have about her, as she worked. As Fabrezan 
waited, he pictured her as she used to look, a 
charming, eager girl. 

Suddenly the door opened and Henriette ap- 
peared, her expression inscrutable, but wearing 
her usual smile and looking perhaps a trifle more 
pallid. She wore a simple white silk waist and a 
dark green skirt. 

Fabrezan bowed low. ^^Come now,” he said, 
^Tell me what has happened! I came to see 
you on business, and so went to your house, 
on leaving court. There I learned from the 
disturbed servants that you had left your hus- 
band. ” 

*‘Yes, Monsieur Fabrezan. I have retirmed to 
my parents. ” As she spoke Henriette had seated 
herself at her desk, and played with the paper- 
knife a trifle anxiously. 

“Has Velines injured you?” Fabrezan asked, 
at once. 

“What I wanted most of all was my liberty,” 


328 


Love vs. Law 


replied Henriette, prevented by a feeling of shame 
from accusing her husband. “My husband and 
I are not congenial. Women of my temperament 
never ought to marry. Now I have my little 
girl with me ; and I am answerable only to myself. 
The Court will give me the custody of the child, 
I feel certain of that; isn’t that so? — (then she 
forced a smile) and I shall live for two things, my 
child and my profession.” 

Fabrezan folded his muscular arms and shook 
his head. “Well, my dear young lady,” he ex- 
claimed, “you ’ve done a fine day’s work.” 

‘ ‘ What ! ’ ’ cried Henriette, ‘ ‘ do you, too, reproach 
me?” 

“Two children, who ought to be so devoted to 
each other,” the old man murmured, as if to 
himself. 

“Because I have taken a dignified, brave stand 
in this matter every one condemns me, without 
knowing the true circumstances.” 

“They were such a charming couple;” her 
companion continued, still to himself. 

“Like Suzanne Marty, I sacrificed myself to 
the cause. Later, other women will be grateful 
for the example set them.” 

“Such an attitude can lead to only one thing — 
divorce.” 

“Surely, each of us owes something to his own 
personality. ” 

“And you mean to tell me,” Fabrezan exclaimed, 
“that after nursing your husband through his 


The Super-Woman 


329 


long sickness, with such devoted self-sacrificing 
love, you are going to do this?” 

Henriette made no reply. It grew darker and 
she rang for lights. She smiled no longer; the 
deepening twilight made her recall her forlorn 
return to her parents’ home the evening before. 
Since it was the first of January, the drawing-room 
had been filled with visitors; but she had been 
able to see her father alone, in his office, for five 
minutes. She had sent away the maid; and, 
taking her child in her arms, she had tried to 
assume a cheerful air, as she said, “Father, I 
have come back to you, with my child. Will you 
take me in?” 

At first President Marcadieu had thought his 
daughter merely jesting. But, in a few words, 
she explained that her husband was jealous of 
her legal successes, that he no longer loved her; 
and their life together had become unbearable. 
When the President finally realised the truth he 
sank back, speechless, crushed, into his arm-chair, 
covering his face with his hands. Henriette had 
never seen him so grief-stricken. 

As for her mother she seemed unable to under- 
stand how her daughter could leave her husband 
if he remained faithful to her. “As long as he 
has not deserted you for another woman, you 
have no right to leave him,” Madame Marcadieu 
maintained. 

Vainly Henriette exclaimed, “Oh, how much 
better if it were only that ! ” No one believed her. 


330 


Love vs. Law 


however, and she was forced to endure many 
reproachful words. 

The President, her mother, even Madame 
Martinal, rebuked her continuously. But they 
made her the most indignant when they attempted 
to console her by saying, “At least he has not been 
unfaithful. ’’ 

So she felt the whole world arrayed against her. 
She was sensible too of Fabrezan’s silent disap- 
proval. As the servant lit the lamp a sudden sharp 
crack was heard. The paper-knife which Henri- 
ette held between her fingers now lay in two 
pieces. “Listen to me Monsieur Fabrezan, ” she 
said courageously. “I don’t wish you to judge 
me too hardly. I want to be frank with you. 
Especially since, in my divorce suit, I am counting 
on you to defend me. Andre has never been 
unfaithful to me.” 

“I realise that,” answered Fabrezan, calmly. 

“We would have been extremely happy if 
he had not been obsessed by one extraordinary 
idea.” 

Fabrezan motioned to her to be silent. “I 
knew all that long before you did, my poor little 
wife, and I have watched your sudden fame, and 
seen your pictures in the leading periodicals. 
I have followed the growth of your reputation; 
indeed, I have come in contact with you profes- 
sionally. Likewise I have studied Velines, who 
appeared to be one of the rising members of the 
Bar. Yes indeed, my dear colleague. Wives 


The Super-Woman 


331 


sometimes ignore their husband’s ability. Velines 
had great talent, and the world was beginning to 
appreciate him. To-day, he might have been 
one of the leading lawyers of Paris if he had not 
had beside him . . . well, how shall I put it? 
Just a moment ago I was admiring from your 
window, the brightness of the evening star, one of 
the winter stars which attract every one’s atten- 
tion by its brilliancy. But when your servant 
brings in the lamp, it dazzles me, at first. It has 
illuminated the room, and the rays are so bright 
that the star no longer can be seen. Now do 
you understand how your husband’s brilliant 
reputation has become lessened? I deeply re- 
gret it. A woman can content herself with a 
modest reputation; but a man craves more.” 
Fabrezan paused a second to obtain the full 
effect of his next remark. “Your husband has 
suffered, my dear friend.” 

“That may be so,” retorted Henriette, “but he 
has made me suffer, in return. You can’t under- 
stand, monsieur; I still love him but he doesn’t 
love me now, he hates me. Can you imagine 
anything more cruel than that?” 

“Velines does not know that you have left 
him?” 

“No, we parted that morning, without explana- 
tion. His grandmother had sent for him from 
Rouen, and he went in haste.” 

“ He ought to be back the day after to-morrow. ” 

“The day after to-morrow? Yes.” 


332 


Love T/s, Law 


“He will find the house empty?” 

“That is what I wish. Rather than to make 
empty threats beforehand, I preferred to await 
my opportunity and take advantage of it.” 

Henriette expected her old friend to be filled 
with indignation. On the contrary he made no 
comment on her action. Again both were silent. 
Both, without acknowledging it, were picturing 
the return of the husband to his deserted home. 
Soon, Henriette’s nerves, which had been under 
high strain gave way; tears came, which she did 
her best to conceal and which she could not 
explain. Finally, ashamed of her weakness she 
excused herself. “I am tired,” she murmured. 
“Worn out in trying to justify my position to 
everyone. Indeed, one would think you all were 
trying to wear me out. ” 

“But, my dear colleague,” Fabrezan assured 
her, “I am not coercing you. You are perfectly 
free; and I have only shown grief at the breaking 
up of your home. Let us leave the subject there, 
if you wish, and speak of what I came to see you 
about.” 

His eyes gleamed with a peculiar pleasure when 
he explained that he had come, as a lawyer, to 
discuss with her a very delicate matter. He 
sank into an arm-chair, wrapped in his heavy 
overcoat, and, while speaking in a rather flowery 
manner — ^for the stamp of his profession was al- 
ways noticeable in his language — he studied the 
young woman, analysed her, and enjoyed play- 


The Super-Woman 333 

ing upon the emotions of this beautiful feminine 
soul. 

“I want you, my little colleague, to help me in 
an undertaking. You will be of invaluable assist- 
ance to me. We lawyers may well be made fools 
of, in regard to the truth of a case. Unfortunately 
it is not always one’s business to proclaim truth 
from the housetops. Still, our profession has great 
moral power. Doctors are praised for the power 
they have over their patients. Heaven knows 
that we possess it to a far greater degree over our 
clients. And I feel sure that with your sym- 
pathies and your sensibilities you have realised 
this even more than myself.” 

^‘That is the reason I care so tremendously for 
my work,” replied Henriette. ^^When, in a single 
day, four or five poor wretches come and pour 
out their woes to me, and tell me the thoughts of 
their . . . souls. I feel far above them all. I 
feel, indeed, as if I held the strings and made the 
puppets move; in truth, the legal mind controls 
them.” 

‘‘You are right,” Fabrezan responded, “We 
hold the strings, and oirr wisdom entails great 
responsibilities. We have it in our power to do 
much that is good, and much that is evil. Let 
us both try, my friend, to do as much good as 
possible to-day. Will you agree?” 

“Of course. Master.” 

“Even if it costs you some of your reputation, 
and you lose an opportunity to shine?” 


334 


Love vs. Law 


She gazed at him in a puzzled manner. 

“Oh, well,’' he continued, pleased that he had 
mystified her. “Sometimes doing the right thing 
comes hard, so we do it only rarely. A doctor 
has the advantage of being able to cure his own 
diseases; but a lawyer often ruins himself while 
working for his client’s interests. But we must 
turn to the object of my visit, my dear colleague. 
How would you like to give up arguing the case 
for Madame Marty? I know that you have 
already prepared your brief in part.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Fabrezan became serious, and said, “There is 
no need of this trial’s taking place. I know that 
if it occurs, I shall win my case; for I have had too 
much experience with divorce cases to believe that 
the Court would give the child back to the mother, 
to whom he has fled after being placed with the 
father. That would be a justification of all sorts of 
children’s escapades. The lot of this woman is 
wretched, also the fate of the boy. He has not 
sinned, and yet he must suffer. Here are individ- 
uals, of whom one is wholly innocent, the second 
has been led astray by advanced theories, and the 
third has done a slight wrong. All their lives are 
wrecked, and I assert that Madame Marty, in 
divorcing her husband, has committed the worst 
fault of all. How much greater this woman would 
have been, if she had forgiven her husband ! Oh, 
yes! I know your theories, and I have heard 
all your discussions of marriage, but here is the 


The Super-Woman 


335 


J situation. The man is ardent, impetuous, and 
sensual; the woman married him in spite of his 
disposition; in fact, she loved him for the very 
j, variableness of his moods and whims. Or, per- 
j; haps the woman may be the changeable one, and 
i has attacks of nerves, and cannnot understand her 
husband. Well! Notwithstanding all this, they 
I should shut their eyes to each others’ weaknesses, 

I and make mutual concessions. Suppose even 
that the husband has sinned against his wife, he 
may yet consider her as his best friend, and respect 
i her as the head of the household. Even if the 

I generosity is all on the woman’s side, do we not 

respect her the more, if she has wisdom enough to 
rebuild her home, and make it as happy as she 
can? Madame Marty has not shown this wisdom, 
so, she is responsible for this wrecked home. Dear 
child, do what I tell you in this case! Alembert 
has surrendered; I feel sure that he has always 
loved his wife — the beautiful Suzanne Marty. 
He has led, since his divorce, a life of dignity and 
regret. Go and see your client! Try to probe 
her heart ! There must be in it some pity for the 
grief of the man whom she loved so long. Both 
have such noble characters that they must sym- 
pathise with each other; and then they both adore 
their child — who after all belongs to them both. 
Under these circumstances it should be a simple 
task to reunite them. A sudden impulse might 
easily throw this woman back into the arms of 
her husband. What do you think of this idea, 


336 


Love vs. Law 


my wise young colleague? Will you attempt the 
reconciliation?” 

Madame Velines looked aghast at this sugges- 
tion and did not reply. Many objections occurred 
to her, but she did not dare voice them, knowing 
well that her chief objection was her own disap- 
pointment at the idea of giving up arguing the 
case. What! Must she refrain from going into 
court, with this famous case, which would add 
vastly to her reputation and establish her as one 
of the most advanced of her sex? This gentle, 
sensitive woman, usually so quick to respond to 
all suffering, was amazed to discover how keen 
was her personal ambition in this affair. She had 
a vision of the large audience, of the judges 
sitting expectantly; she even felt the intense ex- 
citement of the hushed assembly, who listened 
spellbound to her keen epigrammatic phrases. 
Could she give up all this gratification of her pro- 
fessional pride? 

Fabrezan-Castagnac, a wise man who had 
probed the hidden secrets of many a woman’s 
heart, let Henriette pursue her reflections for a 
moment in silence. He was not ignorant of their 
nature. 

“After all, dear lady, the game is already ours. 
We know all about the meetings in the carriage; 
indeed, I saw some of them myself.” 

“What meetings?” demanded Henriette, as- 
tonished at her ignorance. 

Fabrezan told her of the visits of Suzanne, at 


The Super-Woman 337 

the close of school, in the carriage, on the 
boulevard. 

“Suzanne did that?’* demanded the young 
lawyer. 

“Yes, she met him daily. That is quite enough 
to influence the Court against her. We were so 
touched at the pathos of their meetings that we 
pretended to be ignorant of them. When reason 
and common-sense told us that we ought to stop 
them, we decided to send the boy to boarding- 
school, as the most effective and least irritating 
method of putting an end to them. Do you 
imagine, after all this, that the engineer has no 
affection for his wife? He is still ready to open 
his arms to her, and to give her again the place 
which he has refused to any other woman. She is 
for him the ideal wife, the devoted mother of his 
beloved child; and these two may still have a 
future full of peace and joy, if you will help them. ” 
Henriette slowly recovered herself, and replied 
briefly. “I will see what I can do. I promise to 
talk with Suzanne, and will try to induce her to 
give up having a new trial. ” 

“Do it immediately,” enjoined Fabrezan. “I 
beg you to act this very evening. My automobile 
will take you to Passy, if you will use it. You 
must persuade Madame Marty to take her son 
to the engineer, in order that the parents may plan 
together for the future education of their child. 
See if you can arrange this interview for to-mor- 
row at five o’clock. If you cannot do this, send 


22 


338 


Love vs. Law 


me a special-delivery letter. I shall be in the 
Boulevard Madeleine at about that time. You 
must go with your client, so that the interview 
will have the appearance of a meeting in the pre- 
sence of lawyers, and so that the reconciliation — 
if we are able to accomplish it — will seem spon- 
taneous. How does this plan strike you?’' 

Henriette smiled. ^‘You are an admirable 
stage-manager. Master.” 

“Yes, I could have done well in the theatre.” 

Then the old lawyer, who, added to a largeness 
of heart a love of scheming which well represented 
the Bar, said, as he hurried away, “I am over- 
whelmed with work now. Monday I argue a 
case for Madame Mauvert, and I have not even 
read over my brief.” 


When Fabrezan’s automobile left Henriette in 
the Rue de Belles-Feuilles, before the house of 
Suzanne Marty, she was full of enthusiasm for 
her mission. She had relinquished her own 
ambitions in this case, and was ready to efface 
herself for the honour of her noble profession. The 
silvery moon shone over the shaded garden, sur- 
rounded with thick green shrubs. At the rear 
of the trees was the apartment of her friend 
Suzanne. She saw the lights in the drawing- 
room, behind the rose-coloured curtains, and her 
friend reading beside the lamp. 

Madame Marty was not surprised at Henriette’ s 


The Super-Woman 


339 


visit, and both sat together in front of the fire, 
which threw a brilliant crimson glow on their 
gowns. 

“ My dear Henriette, I hear that you, too, think 
of leaving your husband.” For among intimate 
friends, the separation of the Velines was discussed 
confidentially. 

“So you have heard already?” 

“Only an hour ago. You must have suffered 
deeply, Henriette, before you took this step? 
How much I sympathise with you ! And I thought 
you so happy. I never for a moment believed that 
Velines would give you pain. But all men are 
alike. ” 

“Yes, I would almost have preferred to have 
him deceive me, if he still loved me. He has not 
been unfaithful to me, but he has ceased to love 
me ; he loves only success. Ambition devours 
him, absorbs him. He hates me, because I have 
professional success. He considers me his rival. 
It would be impossible for me to live with him any 
longer; I have decided to be again a free being, 
unhampered by a jealous man.” 

Madame Marty could not restrain herself from 
saying, “But since he has always been faithful 
to you ” 

Then Henriette looking at her started to urge 
her message of forgiveness. “You do not know, 
my friend, what you say. A woman who is 
loved can forgive anything. Your husband loves 
you still. If Andre had given his heart, for a 


340 


Love vs. Law 


brief moment, to another, and returned to me 
bitterly regretting his sin, weighed down by re- 
morse, understanding more fully than ever what a 
happy marriage means, because he had known 
what it was to lose it, then I would have been 
only too ready to pardon him. I can fancy what 
joy I would have had in giving him the first kiss 
of absolution. We would have agreed together 
to draw a veil over the past, and the memory of 
that past would protect our present happiness. ” 
Henriette spoke in a low soft voice, but with 
intensity of feeling. 

The divorced woman said nothing. The back 
of her long neck, turned toward the fire, showed 
her profile; and Henriette also noticed that her 
hair was powdered. Suzanne had now so many 
grey hairs that she preferred to conceal them with 
powder, and her beautiful eyes wore an expression 
of deep melancholy. Yet she was scarcely thirty- 
five years old. 

“Suzanne,” said Henriette at last, “I must 
tell you the whole truth in regard to the new trial 
of your case. I cannot deceive you. You will 
be forced to give up Marcel.” 

The poor mother looked distressed and alarmed. 
The lawyer suddenly assumed an air of authority 
which changed her completely. “Your case is 
hopeless, my dear. I have thoroughly studied 
it, and compiled long lists of cases and decisions, 
regarding similar cases covering minor children. 
All this legal study has convinced me that there is 


The Super-Woman 


341 


certain to be a far more serious judgment against 
you by the Court, this time. Monsieur V61ines 
was a little hasty in considering the case. After 
careful reflection I believe that the judges will 
decide that you are responsible for the child’s 
conduct in running away. You have not told me 
all the facts. I understand that you met your son 
secretly every day in the Boulevard Haussmann. 
Monsieur Alembert knew this and overlooked it 
for a time. Finally he thought of preventing this 
disobedience by putting his son in a school for 
the whole day. The Court will accuse you of 
having planned these meetings and instigated 
the boy’s flight. You have not been prudent.” 

Tears came to the eyes of the poor mother. 
^*No! It was not my plan, it was Marcel’s; 
he wrote to me, one day, ‘To-morrow come to the 
comer of Rue Caumartin and we can talk together 
for flve minutes.’ I was weak enough to yield. 
After that we met every day. He found these 
secret meetings romantic, dangerous, delightful.” 

“Yes,” agreed the lawyer, aloud. But, in 
mind, she thought over the poor boy’s imfortunate 
education; so bad for the formation of his moral 
character. “Listen to me, my dear friend! 
Follow my advice! Let us give up the plan of 
bringing this case before the Court again.” 

By a great effort, as if overcoming her mental 
and physical fatigue, Madame Marty answered, 
“I will do whatever you think best. I have no 
more strength or energy; I am worn out.” 


342 


Love vs. Law 


“Monsieur Alembert is ready, it seems, to 
concede a great deal to you, and is it not better 
to attempt a reconciliation with him, than to 
drag all your misery again before the Court? 
Your husband knows, better than any one in the 
world, all that you have suffered. He hates to 
give you pain, for he has never ceased to love you. 
You have been separated now for three years. 
Time has partly assuaged your bitter feelings. 
Why can you not meet now, as devoted parents, 
who are ready to forget themselves for their 
child’s sake? Fabrezan has told me that this was 
his client’s wish. You and I can go together 
with Marcel and have the desired meeting. After 
all that has passed between you, this meeting 
will result in a better understanding. You will 
meet, not as enemies, but as friends who have a 
common interest. Suzanne, the father of your 
child cannot be your enemy!” 

“He is not my enemy now, he simply does not 
exist for me;” declared Suzanne, with a slight 
blush. 

“Then you will willingly accompany me to his 
home to-morrow? His lawyer will meet us there, 
and we will try to make life less difficult for you 
both.” 

“But,” objected Madame Marty, “does this 
not seem like capitulating? Shall I not be giving 
up the case to Monsieur Alembert?” 

“The presence of two lawyers will prevent the 
meeting from being an intimate one. As to your 


The Super-Woman 


343 


pride, recollect that you must now only think of 
the future of Marcel. You wished for the divorce 
and you should now be the first to open this dis- 
cussion concerning your child’s future.” 

Both were silent for a moment. On the mantel- 
shelf stood a bust of Marcel, taken at four years 
old, with his hair long. It stood like the point 
of highest light in the dimly-lighted room. The 
piano was covered with dark silk, and on it stood 
a jardiniere, filled with a bunch of glistening 
holly. A highly-coloured green and blue rug 
covered the end of the room, but the scarcity 
of comfortable chairs showed that Suzanne did 
not receive many friends. On the centre- table, 
strangely enough, the divorced woman had placed 
a picture of her husband. It stood like an emblem 
of her own matrimonial constancy. 

“Will you go with me to-morrow?” repeated 
Henriette. 

“Yes, I have decided to go,” said Madame 
Marty, resolutely. 


“My dear,” said Fabrezan, taking Alembert’s 
arm, “show me your last purchase; I have been 
eager to see it in your rooms; it must be most 
valuable.” 

Pitying the extreme nervousness of his client, 
and trying to divert him, Fabrezan drew him 
toward an ancient faded engraving, which 


344 


Love vs. Law 


hardly showed against the light wall. Alem- 
bert explained, “I picked that up on the Rue 
Bonaparte, for a few sous ; it is not signed, but it 
is early English, without a doubt. It looks as 
though it had been drawn by a woman. It is 
wonderfully graceful and delicate in its outlines. ” 

Fabrezan put on his glasses in order to see it 
better; and, as he stood with his back toward the 
room, his long frock-coat hung in heavy folds. 
He saw the side view of a charming woman’s 
figure, dressed in a long trailing gown with a 
graceful fichu. Her hands holding two ribbons, a 
straw hat, and her prettily shaped head with its 
noble forehead, suggested at once the classic 
beauty of Madame Marty. Fabrezan had to use 
some self-control not to speak of the resemblance. 
^‘It is charming,” he said; “very impressive.” 

“There is a great deal in that picture,” mur- 
mured the engineer. 

The clock struck five and Fabrezan said, 
“That engraving must be worth fifteen or twenty 
gold pieces, at least. In Paris such bargains are 
often to be found.” 

The conversation now languished; the lawyer 
returned to his seat. Alembert gave a glance 
round the room which he had decorated with 
fresh flowers. He usually had flowers on every 
Thursday when Marcel made his visit, but to- 
day the flowers were carefully selected, besides 
being arranged with more taste. He had evi- 
dently desired to show all possible honour to the 


The Super-Woman 


345 


visitor with whom he was to have a pureiy busi- 
ness interview. 

Finally the door opened, and three persons 
entered, hesitatingly, as if actors in a difficult 
drama. First, there was the poor little boy hold- 
ing Madame Marty gently by the arm. Her 
thin face looked too young to be surrounded with 
grey hair, and she was dressed wholly in black. 
Behind them came her young legal adviser, who 
seemed less at her ease in this small conference 
than before five hundred people at the Bar. 

Alembert bowed to Henriette, and then came to 
his wife; holding out his hand, he said, with sup- 
pressed emotion, “How do you do, Suzanne?” 
She was so nervously broken down, that she was 
unable to open her lips. He held her hand and 
led her to a chair. As he looked at her closely, 
for the first time in three years, he was astonished 
to see her white hair and the terrible change which 
suffering had wrought in her appearance. Neither 
wife nor husband spoke. 

Fabrezan, on the contrary, talked loudly in 
his most artificial voice. He turned to the boy 
and said, “So Marcel is only fourteen? It is 
hard to believe it. What do you wish to be when 
you are grown up? A poor lawyer such as I am, 
or a great civil engineer like your papa? He 
certainly looks like you, Alembert. But he should 
have a course in gymnastics to broaden his 
shoulders. ” 

“We are a little heated,” said Henriette, 


346 


Love vs. Law 


opening a window; ^‘for Suzanne insisted on 
walking here.” 

At last Suzanne succeeded in saying, in a low 
voice, to Alembert, “I trust that you will believe 
me when I tell you that this last act of Marcel’s, 
in running away from school to join me, was his 
idea and not mine. To-day I have brought him 
back to you. The child loves us both devotedly, ^ 
but he knew that I had suffered terribly from his 
absence, and he believed it to be his duty, in 
spite of the Court’s decision, to come to me. Do 
not punish him severely.” 

The engineer replied, sadly, ^‘Suzanne, you for- 
get that the boy is my son as well as yours. Can 
I be severe with him? I shall never mention the 
incident to him. I shall not even speak of for- 
giving him. The boy did nothing really wrong.” 

“Yes, I thank you. But that is not all. I 
realise that I have been guilty of a slight wrong 
toward you ; for, since we are speaking with entire 
frankness, I must confess that I have seen Marcel 
for a few moments every day. I did wrong; I 
confess it, and now I will try and respect the de- 
cision of the Court.” 

Gradually Suzanne recovered her poise of man- 
ner. Her handsome grey eyes looked calmly at 
the man who for twelve years had been her 
husband. But the engineer felt greatly shocked 
to discover the wife of his youth, the one woman 
whom he had ever really loved, looking so worn 
and wretched and ill. Never in her days of girl- 


The Super-Woman 


347 


hood had this woman been more appealing to him. 
Here was the wife whom he had mourned, come 
back to him. All bitterness departed. Only to 
be permitted to hold her hand seemed bliss, and he 
thought of kissing her pale wan cheek. His arm 
longed to hold her, and he wanted only to be close 
to her and to fall on his knees and beg for her 
forgiveness. 

Suzanne now continued, “Madame Velines, 
my lawyer, wished to come with me to-day, to 
make a request. ” 

Henriette, who had been silent until then, drew 
nearer her client, and Fabrezan took a place 
beside Alembert, while Marcel stood near the 
window, trembling with shame at being the 
subject of this discussion. 

Assuming an air of seventy Fabrezan said — 
“The decision of the Court was final. Monsieur 
Alembert had the whole care of the child ; Madame 
Alembert was to see him only once each week. 
Madame Velines, have you any objections to 
make to this decision?” 

“Monsieur Fabrezan,” said Henriette, **my 
client is far from well, and for several weeks we 
have been deeply troubled about her. She is 
worn out with worry and anxiety over the loss 
of her child and the excitement of these two trials. 
She needs good care; and her parents, who see 
her in such a miserable condition of body and mind, 
wish to do everything in their power to make her 
life less hard. ” 


348 


Love vs. Law 


“My request/* said Madame Marty, “is that 
Marcel should not be placed in a boarding-school. ” 
Henriette and Fabrezan looked at Alembert. 
He had become deathly white, but he did not 
speak. Perhaps this humble request, made of 
him by his proud reserved wife, moved him more 
than anything. His hand restlessly pushed back 
the hair over his forehead. Suffering had also 
changed him. He looked older and sadder. His 
eyes had gained an expression of intensity, and 
his whole face had grown, in moral strength and 
self-control. Just now he was regretfully recalling 
the past, his long bitter struggle to gain control 
of this poor woman’s child, her dearest treasure. 
And this — after he had caused her such deep 
suffering by being unfaithful to her. Then he 
had an unpleasant memory of a scented room, 
full of orchids, and of that frivolous little vaude- 
ville actress who had worked so hard to add him 
to her list of masculine captives. 

“You refuse me this?” asked Suzanne. 

“My dear — ” began Fabrezan. 

But Alembert recovered himseh, and called 
Marcel toward him. 

The little boy came slowly, with a look of proud 
reserve. His emotional, feminine face, afforded 
a strange contrast to his half-defiant, half-timid 
manner. “What do you want, Papa?” 

“ Do you prefer to return to Passy, this evening, 
rather than to stay here?” 

The imhappy child hesitated. What he in- 


The Super-Woman 


349 


tended to reply already troubled him. Henriette 
saw his fear of wounding his father. 

“I have not the right to say which I prefer,” 
said Marcel. “Indeed, I am not certain, myself. 
I love mamma so much, yet if I were free I am not 
sure that I would go with mamma.” 

“Oh, well,” said Alembert, simply; “go back 
with your mother.” 

Suzanne’s eyes shone like stars, as she turned 
them gratefully toward her husband. “You give 
up your rights ? You give me the boy ? ’ ’ 

“I have done you wrong enough, Suzanne. I 
shall try now to suffer alone. ” He scarcely heard 
her thanks, but he felt the pressure of her gloved 
fingers which he still kept in his. A stifled sob 
was heard, and Marcel went behind the curtain 
of the window to conceal his tears. 

Alembert pressed the hand of his wife more 
firmly. 

Henriette exchanged a discreet look with Fabre- 
zan, and both arose and hurried away. Without 
a word being spoken by Henriette, she felt that her 
work was done. Fabrezan looked with affection at 
this handsome couple, and wiped his eyes furtively. 

And Alembert, who had not let go for one 
instant the soft frail hand of Suzanne, now seized 
her wrists, and then her arms. He begged, he 
commanded, he entreated. “O, stay with me! 
Stay, Suzanne!” The lawyers disappeared to- 
gether, and, in that quiet room, something died 
a sudden death. It was a noble woman’s pride. 


350 


Love vs. Law 


The sobbing of the child could be heard, behind 
the window curtain, and Suzanne, at the end of 
her strength, let her weary head fall on her hus- 
band’s shoulder. 


CHAPTER XVI 


A SUDDEN RESOLUTION 

M adame MARTINAL was overworked. It 
had not been difficult to go every day to 
the Place Dauphine, but to go to the Rue de 
Grenville made a longer journey, especially now 
when her youngest boy was ill with “La Grippe.’' 
Meantime, Madame Velines, although outwardly 
calm, was not equal to arranging her arguments; 
and, every evening the widow came home with 
briefs for five or six cases in her portfolio. These 
papers she had to look over, beside the bed of her 
little invalid. That day she had argued a case, 
in place of Henriette, and Louise Pemette had de- 
layed her, asking questions about the Velines se- 
paration. “You know them so well,” said she, 
“you must surely know the reason of their 
quarrel?” 

“I know nothing about it.” 

“There is no harm in talking about it now, for 
every one has heard they have separated. Do 
they no longer love each other? No longer?” 

“They themselves do not know the cause of 
their misunderstanding,” said Madame Martinal, 
briefly. 


351 


352 


Love vs. Law 


Louise herself had been looking better and 
happier for the last few months. She had a new 
dignity in her manner, and dressed with more 
care. Maurice Servais was still secretary for 
Fabrezan, and although exceedingly busy, found 
leisure to stop occasionally in the Galerie Saint 
Louis and meet Louise. About this time he won 
an important case; and, owing to his impassioned 
appeal before a jury, had a woman, accused of 
poisoning, acquitted. Since this victory, less 
nervous, he began to rival Ternisien, in his 
popularity with great criminals. So he raised 
his fees, and expected soon to earn ten thousand 
francs a year, and to be able to marry Louise, 
whenever she was ready. Louise was proud, and 
insisted on delaying their marriage until she was 
able to earn her portion of the income. For she 
also had been gaining in her profession, and had 
made one or two legal successes. 

The Velines marriage had been her ideal; 
Henriette, above all human beings, was her model. 
Now, when she argued a case and raised her pretty 
left hand in a peaceful gesture, there could be 
seen sparkling on it a ring of rubies and diamonds. 
She was willing to accept the gift of this ring, but 
she preferred to postpone the gift of herself until 
she had achieved that desirable state known as 
“economic independence.’^ 

So the rupture of the Velines household was most 
disconcerting to Louise. What, this ideal mar- 
riage of two lawyers had proved a failure? She 


A Sudden Resolution 


353 


insisted on hearing more about it from Madame 
Martinal and smiled coaxingly as she asked, 
^‘You must know why they have separated. 
Maurice and I need to learn by their experience. ” 

But Henriette ’s secretary refused to answer all 
questions; although fifty different versions of the 
scandal were to be heard at the Palais de Justice, 
before even the husband had heard of his wife’s 
leaving his home. The widow would have pre- 
ferred to end the gossip, and could not herself 
believe that the separation was permanent. She 
tried in every possible way to bring about a re- 
conciliation, and did not hesitate to advise Hen- 
riette. The thought of Velines returning to find 
his home deserted seemed to her intolerable. 
Nothing, however, as yet, had changed Henriette’s 
decision. 

One evening Madame Martinal arrived at Rue 
de Grenville just in time to see Henriette assisted 
from the carriage by Fabrezan. She was surprised 
to see her looking very pale. Probably Fabrezan 
had openly reprimanded her. 

This was a mistake, however; for, during their 
drive together, the older lawyer had not spoken 
three words to the young woman. He now bowed 
to the two women, and left them. Henriette 
asked Madame Martinal to wait a few moments, 
saying that she must see her little girl. So 
she entered, alone, the room where the child 
slept, and there took off her hat and wraps. She 
was shaken by a sudden conflict between her 


23 


354 


Love vs. Law 


pride and her reason. Her reason told her some 
serious truths about divorces, which, in her im- 
pulsiveness, she had not thought of before. In 
seeing the desperate condition of the Alembert 
family, she had for the first time realised the diffi- 
culties in the path which she was herself travelling. 
In taking her child away with her she had thought 
of her as one of her own possessions, with that 
proprietary feeling often seen in a parent. Was 
not her daughter more truly hers than her cloth- 
ing and her food? But would not Andre have 
precisely the same feelings? What a strong case 
he could make out, to gain possession of the child! 
And then, even if the Court refused him this, 
how he would strive to win his child’s affection! 
Thus the persistent bond between husband and 
wife forced itself upon her attention. She thought 
again of this reconciliation which she had recently 
witnessed at the engineer’s home, and how the 
first touch of their hands had brought them into 
close sympathy. Then she questioned herself, 
and wondered if she could ever marry any other 
man; at the mere thought, her heart beat passion- 
ately. Suddenly she said aloud, hardly con- 
sciously, “I have argued too many divorce cases. ” 
Again she thought of Velines. Now that she had 
made the effort to attain her freedom, could she 
ever go back to him? Then she remembered how 
she had packed up all her gowns, and all the lay- 
ette, a week ago; and, with a touch of vanity, 
she thought of her own newly acquired dignity 


A Sudden Resolution 


355 


as an emancipated woman — an absolutely free 
being. 

A single lamp lit the room. In the glass of the 
dressing-table she saw the reflection of her own 
image, — the pink and white face of Henriette, 
alone in her room, holding her child. This sight 
suggested to her a touching picture which she had 
seen called ‘ ‘ Widowhood. ’ ’ Then she reflected that 
she could no longer say, “ My home,’’ ** Myfamily.” 
She and her child together were only a fragment 
of a group; they were imperfect, incomplete. It 
was a case of arrested development. This idea 
did not make her action seem as lofty and as 
inevitable as it had. Could she not have found 
some happiness in the courteously friendly rela- 
tionship in which she and Velines had lived during 
the last month? She had called it a “Conjugal 
lie”; but could you call it a lie for two beings 
who ate at the same table, slept under the same 
roof, had the same occupation, the same purse, 
and above all the same child? Had they not 
always been good friends, who had enjoyed each 
other’s society? Henriette began to see her life 
more sanely, and to have a clearer idea of her 
duty. What a hard word duty was! 

Half an hour before dinner, she entered the study 
where Madame Martinal worked alone. Her 
faithful secretary seemed confused and nervous. 
She talked rapidly about the cancelling of a lease, 
of a client’s debts, and of a theft of laces at the 
Louvre. At last Henriette interrupted with deci- 


356 


Love vs. Law 


sion: “Dear friend, I have just returned from the 
Alembert s, and, with the assistance of Fabrezan, 
we have brought about a reconciliation. I have 
been deeply affected by the whole scene, and it has 
made me change my mind in regard to my own 
affairs. Can you come and help me, early to- 
morrow morning? My husband arrives before 
lunch, and I wish to be at Place Dauphine before 
him.’’ 

By eleven o’clock the next morning the family, 
affecting great spirits, were back in the Place 
Dauphine, before the servants. Madame Mar- 
tinal a little nervously scolded Narcisse, exclaim- 
ing, “What are you doing, my boy? We thought 
you had left for Kamtchatka.” While the maid 
put away the baby’s clothes and hers in the drawers 
of the bureau, Henriette sewed quietly upon the 
cradle-curtains the conventional white bow of 
ribbon. Everything was ready and in its usual 
order when Velines’s ring came. There were 
plants on the mantelpiece; in the dining-room 
the cloth was laid, and a smell of croquettes 
floated in from the kitchen. 

Velines arrived with an air of greater content- 
ment than usual. His wife embraced him, as 
though they were a happy couple who were delighted 
to meet after a short separation; and he showed 
great delight in seeing his little girl, who now 
stood alone on her feet, only balancing herself 
by two fingers. Velines expressed his satis- 


A Sudden Resolution 


357 


faction at his return home, in masculine fashion 
by saying, “How hungry I am!” 

And when they were at table, Madame Martinal, 
who scarcely ate anything, was indignant at his 
gaiety, his appetite, and his air of taking his 
place as master of the house. 

Opposite him, Henriette, pale and worn by 
the fearful mental anguish of the last week, with 
heroic self-control affected to be calm and serene. 
Madame Martinal admired the courage of this 
young woman, who having once seen the right 
way, pursued it to the end. She was annoyed 
at the utter imconsciousness of her husband. 

“Is your grandmother well?” asked Henriette. 

Velines gave his news from Madame Mansart. 
The truth was that he had been desperately bored 
in Rouen. This chilly week, away from the city, 
among the frozen gardens where a nipping wind 
blew continuously, and where he had indulged 
his bitter feelings, had offered nothing which 
resembled his spring vacation. He had found 
little pleasure, during this visit, in the cathedral 
chimes or in the memories of his youth, or even in 
comparing the two women who had divided his 
heart. A chill rain had made the mud in the 
streets execrable and somehow he had felt a vague 
indignation against Madame Mansart, who had 
diagnosed so cruelly his conjugal unhappiness. 
Without this suggestion of hers he might have 
lived happily with Henriette for a longer time. 
He was accustomed to his wife, and although he 


358 


Love vs. Law 


believed passion had been extinguished, he had 
come to depend on the luxuries of a Parisian apart- 
ment, and on these material comforts of existence 
which could only be supplied by a woman who 
knew his tastes as did his wife. After his love 
had gone, the less noble part of himself found that 
it was dependent on Henriette for many creative 
comforts. 

All this Madame Martinal recognised in Velines. 
He was more pleased to return to his home, than 
to the companion who made the home. 

After the dessert, while smacking his lips over 
a glass of chartreuse, Velines asked for his daugh- 
ter, sat her on his knee, and taught her to play 
horse. The child went into peal after peal of 
merry spontaneous laughter. Henriette, who had 
scarcely spoken, felt desperately sad, but Velines 
seemed supremely happy. His happiness angered 
Madame Martinal. 

“Will you go to the Court with me?’’ asked 
Henriette, as she went to put on her hat. 

She had excellent reasons for wishing to be seen 
with her husband, by the largest number of people 
possible, so as to put an end to the persistent 
rumours of their coming divorce. But Velines, 
not desiring to be seen with this persistent rival, 
who was again eager to make a final effort in the 
search for glory, declined. “ No ! No ! Not to-day ! 
I am too glad to be at home to go to the Palais. ” 

Henriette blushed, and went out without 
saying more. 


A Sudden Resolution 


359 


‘'I will come later,” said Madame Martinal. 
must copy a paper first, and then I want to 
stop on the way and see my little boy.” 

But, soon after the departure of Henriette, she 
went to Velines's study, and found him smoking 
at his desk. “My dear, you know that I am 
fond of you, as well as of your wife. This is why 
I am determined to speak frankly with you ; well, 
Velines, you are odious. ” 

He looked at her, astonished. “What have I 
done to annoy you?” 

“You have the most charming, gracious, and 
brilliant woman in Paris for your wife, and you 
play with your happiness recklessly, and have 
come very near losing it.” 

Velines’ face grew darker; he was not pleased to 
be lectured. But the secretary sat down beside 
him. “I believe that you love Henriette, but 
truly you seem to look upon her as a possession 
that you are sure of. If you realised how near 
you have come to losing your happiness, you 
might act differently.” 

Velines, not knowing what she was aiming at, 
inquired, “Have I not treated Henriette well?” 

“When a man has a wife like Henriette, he 
must not neglect her. She has a right to your 
love, your tenderness, your adoration, to all the 
little loving attentions you can lavish on her. 
Your indifference has almost exhausted her 
patience.” 

“Did she tell you that?” 


360 


Love vs. Law 


Then Madame Martinal hesitated. Had she a 
right to tell Henriette’s secret? Velines’s colossal 
self-complacency as if he were a privileged being, 
suddenly made her decide to speak. “Stop! I 
am going to surprise you, by telling you the truth. 
Your wife quietly left your home; and, if you had 
arrived here three hours earlier, you would have 
found the house empty. On the evening of New 
Year’s day she took the nurse and child, packed 
up all her belongings, and returned to her father’s 
house. She had had enough of life with you. Y es, 
Velines, if you go on in your present way you will 
lose your wife and your home. Your charming 
little wife has not made any vulgar scenes, but 
she has suffered, suffered so intensely that she 
left you, as she thought, forever. She re- 
turned only an hour ago, and did it because she 
thought it her absolute duty. Now it lies with 
you to preserve your child and your home. You 
are astonished. That is good. But all this is 
what happened during your absence; neither 
more nor less. If I have given you a proof of my 
friendship, to-day, then justify it in not letting 
your wife know of my betrayal of her secret ! ’ ’ 

Velines seemed dazed. “ Did you induce her to 
return?” 

“No, Velines. She obeyed a wiser command. 
To my mind she returned so spontaneously and 
generously that it was like making you a new gift 
of herself. It is your disdainful reception of this 
gift which has made me speak. Now — I leave 


A Sudden Resolution 


361 

you to think this over. Good-bye! My dear 
man, this is now your affiair. I have already 
said too much. My sick child needs me. I have 
stayed here too long. ” 

She held out her hand. “Oh,” said he, “you 
understand how to strike hard blows.” Then she 
left him. 

At first, Velines felt more angry than ever with 
Henriette, and wished at once to demand an explan- 
ation. However, she had returned, and he was 
pledged to ignore her flight. But what had he 
to accuse her of? Then he tried to imagine his 
home, if he had not found there his wife and child. 

“After all,” reflected he, with a gesture of 
indignation, “why did she not stay with her 
parents?” 

Then he thought of his free independent bache- 
lor-life, which gave him time to put all his efforts 
into developing himself. 

But, a moment later, he took his hat and his 
portfolio, and hurried to the Palais de Justice, 
really eager to find his wife, and reassure himself 
of her actual presence. For, during the last week, 
without suspecting it he had nearly lost her. 
She could leave him. This fear of losing her 
aroused all his masculine instinct of possession. 
He felt a certain satisfaction in knowing that in 
such cases the law was on his side. 

When he reached the Salle des Pas Perdus, the 
expression on the faces of the people surprised 
him. They looked reserved and sympathetic, and 


362 


Love vs. Law 


he was given two or three significant clasps of the 
hand as though he had received a terrible blow. 
Ternisien came to him with the sympathy of an 
older man, and even said, in parting, “Good-bye, 
my poor friend. ” 

In the dressing-room the woman who put away 
their gowns was almost maternal in her attentions. 
She gave furtive glances at the door, as if fearing 
that the run-away wife might appear suddenly. 
Then, noticing the name of Madame Velines on 
the closet next her husband, she enquired with 
tact, whether Velines would not like to change 
his closet. “Why should I change?” challenged 
Velines, and, without saying anything more, he 
shrugged his shoulders. 

In truth all the court house knew of the scandal. 
It was impossible to tell whether the information 
came through the famous old gossip Fabrezan, or 
more naturally through the morning chats at the 
market, with the wife of Narcisse. However the 
news had come, Velines had been less surprised 
at the information given him by Madame Martinal 
than to find that the whole Palais knew of his 
wife’s flight. It now assumed a more serious 
aspect. It seemed as though it were a present 
fact. However, he pretended not to notice any- 
thing, and meeting Louise Pemette, asked if she 
had seen his wife. Louise became very red and 
said that Madame Velines was in the Eleventh 
Court room, where they tried the cases of theft 
in the great stores. 


A Sudden Resolution 


363 


It was there that he found her. He was obliged 
to push his way through the crowd into the room. 
When he saw the golden hair of Henriette, as she 
sat on the seat with the law-students, his heart 
almost stopped beating. With a little of the 
pride of possession he put his hands on her shoul- 
ders. Her face turned towards him in surprise, 
but the surprise ended in a glad smile. This 
smile gave Velines a pang. He seated himself 
near his wife, and began talking to her with very 
marked attention. fear that I annoyed you 
in not walking over here with you,’* he said. 
‘ ‘ Forgive me ! Here I am. ’ ’ 

This friendly interchange of courtesies before 
this large audience, while a yotmg curly-headed 
law-student was pleading for the mercy of the 
Court, showed the judicial world that the reported 
breach in the Velines household had been closed. 


CHAPTER XVII 


AUTO-SUGGESTION 

I HEAR that you have a charming apartment, 
Louise,’' said Henriette, leaning over the 
balustrade of the balcony. 

“Yes, I love it.” 

The two young women had met on the court 
house steps, this February afternoon. They had 
been talking confidentially, and had walked back 
together as far as the Rue de Cloitre- Notre Dame. 
“Do come and see me this afternoon!” invited 
Louise. Henriette consented, a little curious to 
see the bachelor rooms of this young girl who was 
so bravely leading her lonely life of hard work. 

Louise occupied the top floor of a large new 
house, and she had three pretty, well-fumished 
rooms. The bedroom had a narrow pine bed, 
with a wardrobe, dressing-glass, and two chairs; 
the dining-room had a book-case and desk, in 
light wood ; and the kitchen had a small gas-range 
ready to cook eggs in the evening. A maid came 
every morning to sweep, and serve her breakfast 
which was sent in by a neighbour. It was a plain 
little apartment without bric-a-brac, a trifle bare 
364 


Auto-Suggestion 


365 


and rigid like Louise herself. Henriette could not 
help sympathising with the struggle of this young 
girl to win honours in a profession which had opened 
its doors so easily to the daughter of the President 
Marcadieu. 

Louise was always gay, and never complained; 
she now said, “ Oh, my little home is not spacious, 
and I have few luxuries. It has not been a sine- 
cure for me to support myself at the Bar. I wished 
to earn my own living, and even when I marry 
I wish to have enough income to be independent 
if I choose. It seems to me more dignified. 
Servais begs me to marry at once, and if I listened 
to him I would marry in the spring and give up 
my profession ; but you will never know, my friend, 
what my present standing in my profession has 
cost me. I have struggled hard, denied myself 
much, and argued insignificant cases that have 
brought me little income for three years. No 
lawyer has ever argued more cases for Made- 
moiselle Angely's pupils than have I; and now, 
when I am just having some success, and have 
made a place for myself, am I to give it all up? 
I now earn enough to pay for my hats and gowns ; 
I have a set of clients who employ me, and many 
household servants whom I gained as clients by 
defending the head of an intelligence-office. Since 
then, nurses and maids bring me their criminal 
and divorce cases. These poor girls pay very 
little, but they are conscientious and grateful. 
Sometimes it seems to me that my consultation 


366 


Love vs. Law 


hours are marked by the smell of onions, as yours 
are marked by the smell of orchids. I am a special- 
ist; and in this regard I am superior to many 
older lawyers, and I am very proud of myself.” 

“You have a right to be proud, my dear.” 

“ This wish of Servais to be married immediately 
worries me; and I admire you so much, my dear 
friend, that I have always wished to be like you. 
Maurice and I wish to model our marriage in a 
small way on yours. So, when I was trying to 
reach a decision in regard to my marriage, I saw 
you, and I said to myself, ‘I shall confide in her, 
and try to follow her advice.* Is it not better 
to preserve one’s individuality, even in the home? 
Ought I now to give up my profession?” 

Henriette became serious. She replied, “Once 
I thought just as you do.” 

Then the two young lawyers were silent. Be- 
fore them spread a huge Gothic city, a mass of 
delicate pinnacles with a gallery under each arch 
like a river under a bridge. This was the grand 
structure of Notre Dame, with its pinnacles, its 
gargoyles, its statues, its balustrade, its clock- 
towers, its rose windows, and its iron work. It 
might have been a city of dreams, the grey stone 
absorbing the light colours, the walls looking fragile 
and iridescent, as if made of glass. And for 
several years Louise had gazed passionately up 
at this wonderful bit of stone lace-work, and it 
was interwoven with her rose-coloured visions of 
the future. 


Auto-Suggestion 


367 


At last Henriette spoke : “What reason have you 
for thinking that Servais wishes this sacrifice?” 

“He has often said that for me to continue to 
argue cases would be a great fatigue for me; and 
that he now makes enough income to pay the 
expenses of our modest home, which, if I manage, 
will give me enough to do. Do you know, my 
dear Velines, I suspect a little unconscious pride 
in the male animal, who wishes to build a temple 
sacred alone to his own glory.” 

Henriette smiled and gave answer, “You are 
right. There is also, in his case, the inherited 
sense of the one-ness of the family. Between 
husband and wife he believes that all should be 
held in common; above all if they are friends and 
lovers. To sleep side by side, to eat together, 
to be dependent on the same income — this all 
tends to make you one in spirit. As child and 
young girl I saw this in the home- life of my parents ; 
both worked together for my father’s professional 
success. My mother entertained for that. She 
gave her dinners for that. Her chief object in 
life was to advance her husband’s interests. 
Together they discussed their hopes and disap- 
pointments. ” 

Louise assented, “ In our home it was the same. I 
can see my father now, as he was when only a sub- 
lieutenant; and I recall my mother, still young, 
holding the military map as they looked up the gar- 
rison. How often they discussed questions of 
colonial policy! And what delight my mother 


368 


Love vs. Law 


took in every new gold stripe added to my father’s 
sleeve ! My poor dear parents ! They both longed 
for promotion in the military profession, and 
worked together to reach it. To-day, a husband 
and wife have each a different profession, and each 
a separate aim in Hfe. They resemble a pair of 
horses harnessed together but each pulling a 
different way.” 

Louise sighed deeply. This young girl, in 
spite of her apparent timidity, thought much and 
clearly. She had an excellent and acute mind. 
She ended by saying, “The modem man has lost a 
position which had great advantages. He was 
truly a god, who mled by divine right. Do you 
think it was just?” 

Henriette made no reply. Louise could not 
know what delicate ground they were treading 
upon, or through what moral crisis her friend was 
passing, at this time. For, while Andre Velines 
was stmggling with the fear of losing Henriette, 
his wife was conscientiously searching her own 
heart to find how far she was responsible for the 
loss of mutual sympathy in their married life. 

Madame Martinal’s advice to Velines had 
borne fruit, and he now eagerly — although a little 
awkwardly — treated his wife with every possible 
courtesy. Meantime Henriette passed her time 
in analysing her own heart. Why did not the 
bunch of violets, which Andre pinned upon her 
frock when they went out together, gratify her? 
Why was the graceful compliment which Andre 


Auto-Suggestion 


369 


made her on her argument not agreeable to her? 
Why were his morning and evening kisses so 
chilling? She could not say; but, with her clear- 
sighted mind, she studied the past to see what 
her own faults had been, and she found some 
excuses for her husband’s estrangement. It was 
in a moment of self-humiliation that Louise had 
now come to her, seeking counsel. So she hesi- 
tated a moment, and then broke out, ^‘My little 
Pernette, listen to me! Do you love Servais?” 

The beautiful large eyes of Louise lighted up, 
and transfigured her usually inexpressive face; 
but she said only, “Yes, I love him.” 

“Do you adore him, Louise?” 

“Enough to have forgotten the pain he made me 
endure; enough to make me conceal from him all 
that I know about the past.” 

“ Do you care enough for him so that your pride 
will be satisfied by the gratification of his ambi- 
tions, and your only ambition be to preserve his 
love? Will you rejoice to give up everything in 
life in order to make him happy? Do you love 
in this way Louise?” 

It began to grow dark, and Louise glided into 
the other room; returning with a match, she 
struck a light, and her moist eyes glistened as she 
placed a lamp on the table and lighted it, while 
the daylight gradually disappeared. The graceful 
young girl stood in the twilight, with her smiling 
face. 

“You will freeze near this window,” she said 


24 


370 


Love vs. Law 


at last; “let me get you a shawl, and you must sit 
here near the fire. ” 

“What a strange girl!” thought Henriette. 
In the next room she heard the sound of running 
water; then Louise returned, her eyes freshly 
bathed, and she had forgotten all about the shawl. 

She seized Henriette's hand, held it affection- 
ately in hers, and said, “Thank you, you have 
taught me to know myself; and now everything 
seems simple and easy to arrange. Soon Maurice 
will need a secretary. I can be his secretary ; 
that is all; yes; but I must say good-bye to my 
vanity.” 

She made a little gesture with her hand, and 
her engagement-ring, with one red and one white 
gleam, shone brightly under the lamp-light. 

Henriette looked at Louise with admiration; 
the girl’s face bore an expression of tenderness and 
devotion which made it more than beautiful. She 
was ready to face a future of self-sacrifice and to 
concentrate all her energies on making Maurice’s 
success. This would not be an exciting career 
for her, but after all, perhaps it was best to return 
to the old-fashioned way, and to have all the 
ambition of the household concentrated on the 
head of the family. 

“I can assist my husband more intelligently,” 
she continued, “than did the woman of the last 
century, for my superior training will help me to 
work with him and share his interests. All that 
I know I can give him. We can collaborate and I 


Auto-Suggestion 


371 


will unite my efforts with his; then we shall be 
truly one, as you say.” 

Henriette did not take leave of her young 
friend without expressing her sympathy for her 
new plan of wedded life. And it struck her with 
surprise that Louise did not seem less of a per- 
sonality, because she had deliberately chosen to 
devote herself to making her husband’s career. 
^‘Is it true then,” she reflected, as she walked 
through the narrow street near the cathedral, 
'‘that the greatest joy for us women will always 
be to be loved?” 

Then, when she thought that her husband had 
ceased to love her, Henriette felt a secret sense of 
inferiority, as she .somewhat sadly walked up the 
Rue d’Arcoli which ended in the Rue Chanoinesse. 
Suddenly she saw, close beside a fireman whose 
large cloak almost covered her white apron, the 
disorderly head of Palmyre, the little servant of 
Mademoiselle Angely, and one of the most suc- 
cessful pupils from her colony in Ablon, Henri- 
ette sighed, “So she goes back to her street life! 
What a grief for dear faithful Angely, when she 
hears of it!” 

But Henriette might be wrong. Perhaps Made- 
moiselle Angely already knew of this girl’s back- 
sliding. Her school for these juvenile offenders 
at Ablon was like a large sieve. Of the hundreds 
of young criminals who went through, only a very 
small percentage came out strong enough to resist 
temptation ; of these the larger number were boys 


372 


Love vs. Law 


rescued by the zeal and the generous smile of 
this strange old maid. And because of these 
children who were saved to society, this colony 
was doing a great work, and Mademoiselle Angely 
was an angel of goodness. 

Henriette, who had not realised that woman’s 
superhuman patience, her continual disappoint- 
ments, and her undaunted courage, felt disturbed 
at seeing this proof of the child’s downfall. So 
many lawyers ready to defend these young crim- 
inals — and then so many yielding to the first 
temptation and sinning again! 

Thus reflecting she watched the pair as they 
slowly walked along together, giggling and holding 
hands. ‘ ‘ Oh, that miserable little girl whom Louise 
had defended with so much enthusiasm and then 
worked so hard to reform.” Was this the only 
result of woman’s regeneration of woman? 

“It seems,” said Henriette, mournfully, “as 
if the career of a married woman, who practises 
law, offers only a success which she gains at the 
cost of home happiness ; and an unmarried woman, 
who devotes all her energies to her work with an 
almost apostolic spirit, accomplishes little. After 
all, is it not best to look upon it only as a means 
of self-support?” 

“What are you thinking about, my dear?” 
inquired Velines, when she returned. “You look 
depressed.” 

She did not tell him the subject of her somewhat 
melancholy reflections, but she thought the ques- 


Auto-Suggestion 


373 


tion he asked seemed to show something more 
than conventional politeness. There seemed to be 
even a tone of affection in his voice. Hurriedly she 
put aside this idea, however, and, without speaking 
of Louise, told him of the meeting with Palmyre. 

After dinner that evening, she went to her 
study, and sat a long time in thought, not even 
opening the bundle of papers on her desk. Fi- 
nally she rose and entered her husband’s study. 
Velines, surprised, asked what she wished. 

“Nothing,” said she, naively, “only I do not 
feel in the mood for work this evening.” 

Then with her fingers she brushed off the mantel- 
shelf where her husband had soiled it with ashes 
from his cigarette. “I will have ash-trays put 
in the room,” she said, with seriousness. 

The lace of her tea-gown caught on a comer, 
and her bare arm went in and out among the 
ornaments. Velines interrupted her in her mood. 
That evening she seemed as beautiful and mys- 
terious to him as if she had never been his wife. 
Her hasty flight had never been mentioned by 
them. Henriette did not know that her husband 
had heard of it. Yet this knowledge was under- 
neath all his thoughts and feelings. He lived in 
dread lest she should leave him again. While 
she dreamed, with the pride of a woman, that she 
had again won back her husband’s love. 

At last, she said to Andre, “You do not read 
in the evening. You work constantly, and never 
rest. You seem to have no amusements.” 


374 


Love vs. Law 


“Thank heaven, I have not,'’ he responded 
gaily. 

Henriette seemed pleased to discover a few 
more cigarette ashes that she could brush away. 
Then she asked, “What have you done lately? 
Anything interesting ? ’ ’ 

Velines concealed his astonishment. “Nothing 
interesting to you I am afraid,” he said sadly. 

Then Henriette recollected that at the beginning 
of their married life she had deliberately raised a 
wall between her professional work and his. “I 
saw,” said she, “ as I crossed the hill, the other day, 
an old man, wearing a decoration with an air of 
importance, going out of your office. I fancied 
that you had an interesting new case, and I was 
delighted.” 

He replied bitterly, “You are mistaken. I 
have no new important cases. To-morrow I 
argue a case against a concierge; the next day 
against the Administration, for a barrel of wire 
stolen from the Quai de Bercy. The most 
important case I have is for the cancelling of a 
lease for the City of Paris.” 

There was a pause. Then Henriette remarked, 
“All this is not very agreeable, my dear. You 
lead too hard a life for a man only thirty-six years 
old. Why do you not entertain your brother- 
lawyers? You used to wish to do it. Now 
that our house is ready we could entertain easily. ” 

“ Oh, ” said Velines tartly, “ I am not now a big 
enough lawyer to give receptions.” 


Auto-Suggestion 


375 


There was silence for a moment. Then Hen- 
riette anxiously suggested, “You are always a busy 
lawyer.” 

“Yes, but I am the scavenger of the Bar. I pick 
up the stone chips, and the others work at the 
statue.” He spoke bitterly. 

Henriette made a step towards his desk, covered 
with papers. Her eyes glanced over Andre’s 
hand, resting on the edge of it. It was a strong, 
energetic, forceful hand, the hand of the man who 
had won her heart. Then she retired a little and 
asked, “You need some assistance in yotu* work, — ■ 
a secretary perhaps?” 

He replied, “Absurd for me to take a secretary. 
It would cover me with ridicule.” 

She was silent. Then an idea came to her; at 
first it seemed impossible, then it germinated and 
seemed more practicable. Even in her husband’s 
disappointment over his work, and his frank 
acknowledgment of failure, she recognised his 
superior abilities and realised that he was the vic- 
tim of injustice. Her heart was too large not to 
be moved by his confession. The memory of 
Louise Pernette, who was devoted enough to 
her lover to be ready to give up her personal 
ambitions and become his secretary, recurred 
again and again to Henriette. She seemed to 
see these two handsome young lovers, working at 
the same table, sharing each other’s work, and 
having one ambition. That was a real marriage; 
the husband and wife shared everything together. 


376 


Love vs. Law 


She almost envied them. Yet, had she wished 
it, this might have been her life. 

Her hand slowly passed over the dusty desk 
and touched the hand of her husband; but the 
memory of that summer evening, when she had 
gone into Velines’s room feeling a great need of his 
affection and tenderness, returned. Then he had 
refused to give her his sympathy or love. This 
recollection chilled her, and she said in a subdued 
tone, “ Good-night. ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


woman’s cause is man’s 
HE next day, at breakfast, she exclaimed 



1 enthusiastically, “Oh, what fine strawberries 
we all had, last summer, in Normandy!” 

That evening, she saw on the table, at dessert, 
some strawberries served in those little baskets 
lined with cotton wool, such as are sold in Paris 
in February. 

As she was a sensible woman who did not like 
to see money thrown away, she spoke hastily of 
this extravagance as foolish. 

On another day, she returned to find her room 
full of roses; not the roses which are sold in the 
streets, but those rare magnificent roses which are 
grown behind glass, and look as if they had been 
gathered on another planet. 

“Why do you do this?” she asked; “Why?” 

“It was two years ago to-day that in this same 
room I was taken ill,” he explained. 

She recalled it, and was deeply touched that he 
had remembered it. “He treats me like a woman 
whose favours he has to buy, by ruining himself. ” 

Henriette’s vogue as a lawyer continued. She 


377 


378 


Love vs. Law 


was sent for to Lyons for a divorce. She did not 
go, but, suspecting that they sought her more for 
her sex than for her knowledge of law, she managed 
skilfully to have Madame Martinal take her place, 
and she was as delighted as a child over it. Hen- 
riette told her husband about it, and ended by 
saying, “My practice begins to be too large for 
me to take care of.’^ 

Her husband looked at her in surprise. “You 
are tired of it?” he asked. 

“No, not tired of work, but a little tired of life. ” 

“He came close to her and said in a low voice, 
“If you are worried, let me help you — after all, 
am I not your truest friend?” 

She did not answer; the eyes of both husband 
and wife were moist, and yet each one strove to 
hide all feeling from the other. 

In April, the wedding of Louise and Maurice 
took place. It was in Notre Dame, and all the 
habitues of the court house were there. The 
crowd was immense. At the end of the cathe- 
dral, in the choir, the mysterious light of the 
wax tapers, held by the acolyte, clearly re- 
vealed the white and expressive face of Maurice 
Servais. Fabrezan-Castagnac, usually as much 
at ease before God as before man, seemed a little 
restless, and pulled out his handkerchief several 
times. He whispered in Blondel’s ear, before the 
verger left the church, that they would not see 
this charming girl in the Palais often. “She is 
going to give up her own work to assist her hus- 


Woman’s Cause Is Man’s 


379 


band. Oh! these women!” he added with a 
sigh. 

Then his southern imagination led him, as he 
looked toward the high altar, to address a reproach 
to the Almighty himself. 

'‘She was beginning to show great talent,” he 
muttered. The truth was that he had never 
heard her argue a case, but he was in a mood to 
attribute genius to her, because this made her 
sacrifice to love seem greater. 

However, Blondel did not keep this secret to 
himself, and it was soon passed about among the 
guests. When the groups broke up and the long 
procession began to move up through the chairs 
to offer their congratulations, the news reached 
Velines. 

“Do you know,” said some one, “she intends 
to serve as Servais’s secretary?” 

Andre gave vent to an exclamation of surprise, 
but Henriette said, “I have known it for some 
time. ” 

And then, to her husband, she added, “She 
acted on my advice in the matter. ” 

Velines scarcely knew how to explain this 
statement. He meditated over it a long time. 
What had this enigmatic Henriette really been 
thinking upon through all these days? 


About this time the newspapers began to allude, 
in veiled language, to a frightful scandal. A widow 


38 o 


Love vs. Law 


was married a second time, and suddenly suspicions 
arose concerning the death of her first husband 
which had occurred ten months before. Soon the 
name of the accused appeared. It was Madame 
Dalton-Fallay, the wife of the unhappy artist 
Max Artevelle. She had long been famous for 
her beauty, for the eccentric manner in which she 
arranged her hair, and for her milk-white skin. 

The body was dug up, traces of poison were 
found, and Madame Dalton-Fallay was arrested. 
She immediately expressed a desire to be defended 
by Madame Velines. Henriette, who, at this 
time felt a little tired and had declined many 
interesting cases, which were likely to involve 
long delays, yet realised that this was the most 
famous case that had ever been given her; and 
that if she won it she would reach the very summit 
of her ambition. To defend, in the Criminal 
Court, this young and beautiful woman, who held 
one of the highest positions in society, was to 
give her rank among the most famous lawyers at 
the Bar. The temptation was great; she could 
not help feeling pride when she received the letter 
from Madame Dalton-Fallay; and yet her con- 
science recalled to her certain resolutions which 
she had made weeks before ; however, she accepted 
the case, and went immediately to the prison. 

Although she was not in the habit of talking her 
cases over with her husband, that evening she was 
so excited after her meeting with this curious 
and famous creature, that she told him the news. 


Woman’s Cause Is Man’s 381 


you know that Madame Dalton-Fallay s 
my client? She has sent for me to-day to go to 
see her in Saint-Lazare. ” 

Velines grew pale. The pupils of his eyes 
dilated, and his effort at controlling himself was 
evident. “You have a great opportunity, my 
dear,” was all he said. 

The Parisian papers were full of this poisoning 
case. Every morning there were new and sen- 
sational details given, pictures of all the people 
who had any possible connection with the drama, 
even of their servants. All the readers of the 
newspapers discussed the case and were excited 
over the most trifling pieces of evidence. Velines, 
like most of his brother-lawyers, had felt confident 
that the case would be given him. At least, this 
was what Henriette thought, when she saw her 
husband’s expression change. He felt indignant 
when he heard that this famous case — the kind 
of case that comes only once or twice in a life- 
time to a man — should be given to his wife, to 
the rival at his own fireside. 

When Henriette realised his feelings she began 
to regret having accepted the case. Indeed she 
had almost a feeling of resentment because it had 
been given her. What had appeared an honour, 
became a mortification. She had too many 
chances for distinguishing herself. She even 
wished she could reduce her number of clients. 
Finally she said, “The case is too much for me. 
I do not know ” 


382 


Love vs. Law 


She did not finish her sentence. She knew too 
well the importance of the case, and the thought 
of pleading again in the Criminal Court intoxi- 
cated her. So she went on speaking of her suc- 
cess, while the hand of her husband trembled as 
he took up his glass. 

The next day her excess of vanity, which 
was like the rise of temperature in a feverish 
person, fell. Henriette was again calm and self- 
contained. She thought over, this time, not her 
own position, but her husband’s. This passion- 
ately ambitious man was now half forgotten, and 
was slowly preparing to look on at the apotheosis 
of his wife. 

For a proud man she felt that this was, after all, 
a severe punishment and she also felt ashamed 
of herself for having caused him any further 
irritation, as she recollected her visit to Louise 
and what she had said to her. However, at eight 
o’clock in the morning, the maid brought her 
with her tea a bundle of newspapers, saying, 
“Monsieur sends these to Madame.” 

She devoured the journals. They all described 
her visit to the prison. She had even been pho- 
tographed by a reporter as she went in. Many of 
the newspapers repeated the same thing. Her 
husband’s thoughtfulness in buying them touched 
her. At breakfast she thanked him, and he 
smiled. Neither of them talked much. 

That same day Henriette saw her new client 
in court. This magnificent person, who praised 


Woman’s Cause Is Man’s 


383 


her counsel’s talent, disconcerted her a little. She 
spoke of art and literature and the small talk of 
society, but Henriette was a little puzzled at 
introducing even the subject of her crime. “Of 
course,” said Madame Dalton-Fallay, lightly, 
“you don’t for a moment believe this horrible 
scandal about me. Between ourselves, I really 
feel it absurd to protest, before you, my innocence.” 

“Listen,” enjoined Henriette, “I must not con- 
ceal from you the fact that I believe you to be 
guilty of this murder. Perhaps you are really 
innocent, and I shall find it out. To plead the 
innocence of a client whose crime you are ig- 
norant of is one thing ; to defend a criminal whom 
you believe guilty is quite another ! ’ ’ 

“But, my dear Velines, I hope to prove my 
innocence to you. ” 

“Alas!” replied her lawyer, smiling, “I think 
it wise to decline the honour of defending you!” 

“But I count on you ” 

“One of my sister-lawyers!” 

“No, only you — or perhaps some man.” 

Henriette had a sudden inspiration. “Do you 
know my husband?” 

“Master Velines? A pale intellectual-looking 
man, with a face of the type on a Roman medal? 
Oh, yes. I have heard him.” 

“You know,” said Henriette, “that I am only 
his secretary. I fear that you may lose your 
case; it is so difficult; and he is stronger than I 
am; he is not a woman, who is easily the victim 


384 


Love vs. Law 


of emotions; and he has — I assure you — great 
power. Would you not like to have him col- 
laborate in the case, arranging your defence, — 
but he must argue it before the Court?'’ 

In her legal robes Henriette looked pale and 
young, near this handsome woman with the 
conspicuous hat, who now, as her client, studied 
her. “Tell me then, is your legal marriage a 
success? Do you talk over all your cases? I 
hope they do not go outside the family.” 

Henriette replied seriously, “ I love my husband. 
I know that he has great ability. I have the 
right to praise him. But remember that I first 
suggested one of my women friends.” 

“That is true, but on the whole I prefer Master 
Velines, — on the condition that you assist him, 
of course. Will you tell him that I can see him 
to-morrow morning? You are a powerful lawyer, 
no doubt, but I begin to believe that with a man I 
would do better. Prove that you have no bitter 
feelings toward me by accompanying your hus- 
band to-morrow!” 

When Henriette was at last alone in the corri- 
dors of the Palais, she found herself trembling 
with excitement. She felt as though she had 
taken a mighty resolution, which was to affect 
her whole future. Her career was ended. She 
saw her lawyer’s gown, which had become so dear 
to her, fall from her shoulders; and she felt as 
though she had abandoned once and forever all 
claims to personal success. She had declared 


Woman's Cause Is Man’s 385 


herself to be her husband’s secretary; and this 
statement invalidated all her former triumphs. 
She had declined this important case, which would 
have given her such great reputation. Then she 
thought of the one for whom she had made this 
sacrifice, and her heart filled with sympathy for 
him. ‘^How he had suffered, and how unsym- 
pathetic she had been!” 

She looked eagerly for her husband in the Civil 
Court where he had told her that he expected to 
be. She felt eager to see him and tell him her 
news — news which she felt sure would give him 
pleasure. She would enjoy working to increase 
his reputation and trying again to give him the 
place he deserved before the Bar. 

In the crowded Salle des Pas Perdus she finally 
met Andre. ‘‘You look tired out,” he said to 
her, scrutinising her face anxiously. 

Then, with a woman’s subtlety, and capable of 
infinite tact when she saw the need of it, she began 
with apparent simplicity to play her little comedy 
of ennui and fatigue. 

‘‘Ah,” said she with a gesture of weariness, 
“ I have too much to do — and now a new anxiety. ” 

“What is that, my poor darling?” demanded 
Andre, using this forgotten term of endearment. 
They stood together near the door. 

“Andre,” said she, “advise me, my dear!” 

Her husband was not a man to listen unsym- 
pathetically to a woman’s woes, but he could not 
help being astonished at his proud Henriette’s 


386 


Love vs. Law 


mood. So he replied with surprise, “Certainly, 
if I can.” 

“Where shall we go for a few minutes' talk?” 

Then suddenly an association of ideas brought 
up the idyl of Louise and she started for the 
Galerie Saint Louis, which would be just the 
place for their discussion. She took her husband 
there. It was like the Gothic chapel of an old 
chateau, decorated with blue and gold. Bril- 
liant stained-glass let in the daylight, half mysteri- 
ously, at the right; while at the left, through an 
immense plain-glass window, the brilliant frescoing 
of gold in the Criminal Court could be seen. On 
the ceiling a delicate pattern of geometrical lines 
was interwoven between the vaulting; and, on 
the walls, there was frescoed a design made with 
the lilies of France. Henriette and Andre sat 
on a bench, together, opposite a great statue of 
Saint Louis. 

Henriette explained: “My new client is an 
utterly impossible creature. I can do nothing 
with her. A case like this disgusts me. I know 
that I never can defend a pronounced criminal. 
I cannot think of anything to say in her favour, 
and I told her so. Then she asked for you. She 
wishes now to have you take her case, if you only 
will, Andre ” 

Velines did not perceive all that Henriette 
meant, but, as he looked at her, she seemed to have 
become suddenly a much more beautiful woman; 
he thought that perhaps the change was in himself ; 


Woman’s Cause Is Man’s 387 


but, really, her face was illuminated with a new 
and exquisite tenderness. Andre was surprised 
at the strength of the love which now drew him 
toward his long-neglected wife. “What do you 
mean?” he asked, trembling. 

“You must help me, and we will prepare the 
case together ; but you must try it before the jury. ” 

Below, in front of the steps that led to the gal- 
lery, was the Municipal Court. A woman, bare- 
headed, went from the consultation-room, with a 
child in her arms, crossing the prisoners’ gallery, 
where the sound of her steps ceased. An usher 
met her, and directed her towards the door. Then 
there was silence. 

“Henriette, ” murmured Andre, at last — and 
his hand sought that of his wife — “Henriette, you 
are giving up this case for me.” 

“ Of course not. I would have had* much pleas- 
ure in taking it myself, if I could have done it 
justice. But I feel unequal to it. I could not 
argue in this woman’s defence.” 

“Henriette, you know all my weaknesses and 
disappointments ; you are trying to heal my 
wounded pride.” 

She answered him, without losing her self- 
control, “If you intend to decline this case, I 
shall give it up wholly.” 

Andre, whose eyes were fastened on the flag- 
stones, said softly, “What a strange situation ours 
is? And yet our marriage has not been wholly a 
failure. I have been true to you, Henriette. We 


388 


Love vs. Law 


have not broken our troth. We can at least look 
into each other’s eyes without a blush. ” 

And Henriette, recalling her flight from her 
home, responded sadly, amending, “But not 
without tears.” And she withdrew her hand. 

Then he thought, “She does not care for me; 
I was mistaken. ” 

So they turned their conversation wholly to 
the case of Madame Dalton-Fallay. For Ve- 
lines determined to accept her case. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE EGOTISM OF WOMAN IS ALWAYS FOR TWO 
HAT summer, many Parisians delayed their 



1 departure for the country, on account of the 
trial of Madame Dalton-Fallay, whose case wholly 
absorbed the attention of the public. All the 
society people wished to be present at the trial, 
which was to take place at the beginning of July, 
at a time when the Court was eagerly looking 
forward to its vacation. 

Like a ship riding at anchor the island-city 
was reflected in the water which surrounded it. 
Notre Dame lifted its beautiful towers in the 
sultry summer heat ; the huge four-sided hospital, 
bristling with ventilators and known as the 
Hotel-Dieu, was conspicuous for its ugliness; while 
the great Palais de Justice, combining several 
styles of architecture on the outside, needed to be 
entered before its prefect proportions could be 
appreciated. 

On the day of the trial, the Palais de Justice was 
alive with activity. At eleven o’clock the jour- 
nalists began to arrive, and crowded around the 
doors in the Place Dauphine, while the dressing- 
room was besieged by charmingly-dressed society 


390 


Love vs. Law 


women, who were begging for introductions to 
all the distinguished lawyers. They literally held 
the lawyers by their sleeves, making the most of a 
trivial acquaintance — a dinner perhaps where they 
had been neighbours — to ask favours of various 
kinds. Lecellier found himself literally a prisoner, 
as four young women joined hands to prevent 
him from moving away. He held his legal gown 
in one hand and his toque in the other, and at that 
moment, surely, had no apparent dignity, except 
that which an invisible talent confers. The Chief 
Justice who presided at this Criminal Court, went 
up through a small stair-case to the gallery, to 
don his red gown. He looked anxious and had an 
air of importance, and he was followed by two 
judges; while the jury, a little ashamed of their 
ordinary clothes, hurried across the lobby. 

The excitement in the court house constantly 
increased, and loud whispering could be heard in 
the crowd, as the lawyers hurried to their places. 
All wore their legal gowns, but many were seen 
to be very shabby when they entered the dressing- 
room. There were several among them who 
secretly had to borrow money from the society 
founded to give assistance to needy lawyers. 
These men belonged to the class who lease two 
rooms on the seventh floor of some forlorn build- 
ing for three months, and under the veil of dark- 
ness, receive visits from criminal clients, and carry 
on a secret traffic with ostracised members of 
society. Thus they keep open an illicit passage- 


The Egotism of Woman 


391 


way for criminal cases which are concealed from 
the police and the magistrates of the court. 

Then Velines, in his ermine hood, walked 
through the Palais to the Criminal Court, with 
Madame Mansart who had come from Rouen 
for the trial. Henriette had already taken her 
place between Madame Martinal and the yotmg 
Madame Servais. The old grandmother was jubi- 
lant, and grew more so when she saw the size of 
the audience. Velines told her the names of the 
most distinguished people — Sylvere and his mis- 
tress, the late Madame Mauvert, and the Engineer 
and Madame Alembert, whose reconciliation 
Henriette had been responsible for. There were 
several famous actresses present, and many of 
the most prominent people in Paris. 

The room was dark and its high windows 
made it seem almost like a prison. From time 
to time a small side-door opened, letting a woman 
enter. Through this door came the showily 
dressed Madame Leroy-Mathalin, who felt as 
much at home in the Palais as in her own dwelling, 
and laughed and joked with the lawyers, the clerks, 
the ushers, and even the policemen. 

A wooden railing separated the platform from 
the benches reserved for the witnesses and invited 
guests. Madame Marcadieu looked at her daugh- 
ter, through her opera-glasses, while Madame 
Mansart looked at her grandson. They were 
really rivals, although the rivalry was well con- 
cealed; each one was a little jealous of the other’s 


392 


Love vs. Law 


child. Henriette’s mother did not enjoy this 
gathering of people, who had come to hear Andre ; 
but what troubled her most was Henriette’s last 
move. For, leaving her friends, with her port- 
folio in her hand, she now came with quiet dignity 
to take her place near her husband, showing her- 
self before this great public in her new r61e of 
secretary to Andre. Neither the mother nor the 
grandmother spoke a word; but a smile of tri- 
umph lighted up Madame Mansart’s yellow face. 
Madame Marcadieu’s lips closed ai little more 
tightly than usual, expressing, in this reserved 
woman, her disappointment. 

A murmur of voices was heard in the narrow 
corridor. By accident Master Blondel had left 
the door open; so that the large figure of Fabrezan 
could be seen beside the thin and wiry Madame 
Gevigne. She had been forbidden permission to 
enter the room, and she was insisting that this 
distinguished lawyer should give her an intro- 
duction. She held him tightly by the sleeve, 
and the whole audience could hear her sorrowful 
appeal: “Oh, Master! Master!” 

She might have been an ardent disciple clinging 
to the skirts of a prophet. At last Fabrezan 
yielded, after having refused several times, and 
while the successful applicant hurried, with her 
mouse-like steps, to find a place in the audience, 
Fabrezan walked slowly into the room, taking time 
to look over the assembly. J ust then Mademoiselle 
Angely entered, with Jeanne de Louvrol and Marie 


The Egotism of Woman 


393 


Morvan. These three joined the group of lawyers, 
sitting on the bench with the journalists. 

At a sign from Mademoiselle Angely, Henriette 
went to greet her. “Here are two lawyers that 
need lecturing,’' said she. “Do you know, my 
dear Velines, that Mademoiselle Morvan has 
made her debut in the Eighth Court and that she 
achieved a great success? Some one told Eram- 
bourg, who told me, that she made an excellent 
impression. As to Mademoiselle de Louvrol, you 
have heard her argue cases, many times this year. 
Some people accuse her of imitating your manner. 
If she could do that, she would be sure of success. 
But now these girls have suddenly changed their 
minds, and do not wish to finish their law-studies. 
And what arguments do you think they use? 
‘What is the use of being admitted to the Bar?’ 
They say, ‘Look at Louise Pemette! She is 
hardly married before she disappears from public 
view and retires into her husband’s study. And 
then look at Madame Velines, who acquires a 
world-wide reputation, covers herself with glory, 
and is equally remarkable in the nursery with her 
child, or arguing a case before the jury — when 
suddenly some fine morning, she amazes the world 
by refusing to take any more cases. Now she is 
rarely seen in court, and she openly assists her 
husband in a case where her work is seen to be 
merely that of a secretary and copyist.’ ” 

“Oh, Mademoiselle Angely!” protested the 
three girls, laughing. 


394 


Love vs. Law 


*‘Yes, my dear, they actually said that; and 
they added, ‘What use is it to wear ourselves 
out, studying, if we are to give it all up so soon?’ 
“Of course I disapproved their ideas, and now 
I am putting the question for them. My dear 
Velines, *do you approve having these girls give 
up their professional career?” 

Henriette smiled, “No! Far from it! I be- 
lieve that they should work hard and learn to argue 
cases, and have clients, and earn their living. 
Every woman should be able to support herself. 
If, in the future, when happily married to the men 
whom they themselves have chosen, they decide 
to efface themselves, and give up their personal 
ambition, and become only their husbands’ junior 
partners or assistants, that will be because the 
moral being formed by marriage is a new moral 
being, subject to new laws. But to-day they are 
independent beings; and it is right for them to 
develop their own individuality, and to make of 
themselves all that is possible in their profession. ” 

“Later, when married, ” she presently continued, 
“their greatest joy may be to become the compan- 
ions of their husbands, and to share their intel- 
lectual life with them, even giving up their own 
personal ambition. If they prefer to give up 
having love in their lives, they can still be sure 
of having work to do in the world, and of being 
able to make a place for themselves. If mis- 
fortune should come to them, or they should 
make a mistake in the men they marry, their 


The Egotism of Woman 


395 


profession would still fit them to reshape again 
their lives.” 

Madame Martinal, who had listened without 
speaking, now interrupted. 

“No! No! Do not let them stop their legal 
studies, now when they have gone so far! Let 
them argue cases, and earn their living by prac- 
tising law in the Palais ; but may God keep them 
from the sufferings I have endured! But what 
would I have done, if, in losing my husband, I 
had lost also all means of supporting and educating 
my children? There are so many women left 
as I was. ” Then she showed them a pale, delicate 
young woman whom she had brought with her, 
to give her a slight diversion, and told the story of 
Madame Faustin, who at last had secured enough 
alimony from her husband for her support. “A 
young girl should be equipped as well as a young 
man for the uncertainties of life. Less able, as 
she is, physically, to battle with life, she needs 
even more careful preparation than does he.” 

“ To be able to share the professional life of your 
husband, and to be his intellectual companion,” 
said Louise Servais, “is also a desirable result of 
our training. ” 

Thoroughly impressed, the young law-students 
opened their lips to say that they had no idea of 
leaving their profession; when, near the platform, 
a door swung and the usher announced the opening 
of the court. With great dignity the judges, in 
their legal robes, advanced to their seats. There 


396 


Love vs. Law 


was a woman near them, dressed in a gown of 
the latest fashion, but it was black. She was the 
accused. Thus the Court opened. 


The session lasted far into the night, for the 
arguments were long, and in the cross-examina- 
tions Madame Dalton-Fallay showed herself very 
acute. The testimony of the witnesses excited loud 
expressions of curiosity in the fashionable audience ; 
while toward the back of the room, where the crowd 
was composed of poorer members of society, 
there was an utter Babel of sounds. 

When the evidence was all in, and the other 
courts had ended their sessions, the lawyers began 
to crowd in to hear Velines. The benches were 
filled with prominent journalists. Even lawyers 
from the other courts were there; among them 
was President Marcadieu. When Velines began 
his argument, it was five o’clock in the evening. 
Blondel, small and near-sighted, stood craning for- 
ward his neck, so that only his profile could be 
seen, in order not to lose one of the orator’s 
gestures. 

Then Henriette, in her modest r61e as secretary, 
felt that her husband was to have a great victory. 
During the last year Velines had secretly worked 
hard, not only at perfecting his logical powers, but 
at his elocution. Now, when he appeared, for the 
first time, before this great audience, all the results 
of his hard work were evident. Although Hen- 


The Egotism of Woman 397 


riette knew that at this same moment she might 
have been arguing this same case, and addressing 
this same jury, she was now so completely under 
the spell of her husband’s oratory, that she did not 
feel one pang of envy. Her vanity had disap- 
peared without leaving even a regret. Her love 
for her husband became almost maternal, and she 
loved him more deeply because of her sacrifice. 
She rejoiced in all the admiration that he received, 
and felt as though she were bestowing on him a 
magnificent gift. He spoke for two hours, trying 
to prove the woman prisoner innocent; and, by 
the strength of his argument, he produced such an 
impression of doubt as to her guilt, that, in the 
opinion of the jury, it became impossible to convict 
her. 

Some of the older lawyers, like Fabrezan and 
Lecellier, could not conceal their enthusiasm. 
Words escaped them which sounded almost like 
applause. Monsieur Marcadieu, who had a fine 
mind, thoroughly appreciated his son-in-law; and, 
as he sat quietly with his handsome hand moving 
over his face, he felt great satisfaction in Andre’s 
brilliant defence, and in the admiring lawyers and 
the excited audience. He was a man, and the 
fame of the husband of his daughter seemed more 
substantial to him than even the fame of his 
daughter herself. This, however, was not the 
case with Madame Marcadieu; and the memory 
of that enthusiastic audience, before whom her 
daughter Henriette had made her great success, 


398 


Love vs. Law 


kept her from enjoying the praises of her son- 
in-law, which surrounded her. 

During the deliberation of the jury, V61ines, 
although tired out, accompanied his client to give 
her some encouraging words; but he found her 
so certain she should be acquitted that she 
needed no sympathy. She had never made a 
confession, but she had a strange enigmatic smile 
when her lawyer cross-questioned her. It was with 
this same smile on her voluptuous lips, that she 
thanked him and permitted him to kiss the fingers 
of her gloved hands. After this, Velines, desper- 
ately anxious about the verdict of the jury concern- 
ing his case, hurried to the restaurant, where he 
took a sandwich and a glass of champagne. He 
hastily went up the small stair-case near the post- 
office, but saw no one in the Galerie des Prison- 
niers or the Galerie Lamoignon ; that part of the 
Palais de Justice seemed dead. When he en- 
tered the Criminal Court the contrast was great ; 
for there was a tumult of noise. During the 
absence of the jury, people had stood, whisper- 
ing and gossiping. When Velines returned there 
was a long low murmur of applause which 
rose and died slowly, and this murmur gave 
him infinite satisfaction. He thought it sig- 
nificant. Groups of his brother-lawyers stopped, 
several times, and paid him extravagant com- 
pliments to his face. He knew, too, that they 
were sincere. 

When he sat down, his wife drew near. She 


The Egotism of Woman 


399 


looked at him with her eyes full of satisfaction, 
and said, My dearest, I am proud. ” 

Then he suddenly realised that she might have 
been receiving these same agreeable compliments, 
in this same place. He gazed at her steadily, 
and both smiled; but at this moment Velines felt 
himself to be at the end of his strength, and tears 
gathered in his eyes. 

A few moments later the jury announced the 
verdict of “Not guilty.'* 

This was the true apotheosis for the man who 
had made such an admirable argument. The 
light manner in which Madame Dalton-Fallay 
threw him a careless “Thank you,” from the 
length of her box, seemed ungrateful. The whole 
assembly were desirous to see the man who had 
made such a wonderful argument. The entire 
Bar greeted him, and Fabrezan-Castagnac led 
them in their hearty congratulations. Lecellier 
pressed his hand and assured him that he was an 
honour to the Bar. Isabelle Geronce forced a path 
through the crowd to pay him a compliment, and 
those who knew her felt that this was more than a 
professional congratulation. 

Madame Surgeres offered no congratulations, 
for, in a fit of anger, she had disappeared. The 
brilliant society- women leaned over the balcony, 
to look once more at this distinguished lawyer. 
After the departure of the judges, Madame Man- 
sart took courage to walk up to the railing and 
look in at the Bar. Behind her lorgnette her eyes 


400 


Love vs. Law 


sparkled with pride, and, with her head a little 
thrown back, she admired her grandson, who had 
now reahsed all her ambitions. She noted with 
pleasure all the distinguished women who sur- 
rounded him — Madame Martinal, Madame Lecel- 
lier, and little Madame Debreynes, whose eyes 
looked a little malicious. Fabrezan made a 
gesture of admiration with his large hands, and 
even Madame Marcadieu whispered to her daugh- 
ter, ^‘It was well done, my dear; however, you will 
always have a distinguished reputation.'' 

Many friends crowded about Velines — the 
celebrated Sylvere with his new wife dressed 
in a riding-habit, and Monsieur and Madame 
Alembert, who, since their reconciliation, had 
become inseparable. 

Poor little Madame Faustin kept near Madame 
Martinal, taking refuge in the skirts of her lawyer. 
Lamblin, Thaddee-Mira, Servais and Louise, 
Mademoiselle Angely, the law-students — all these 
were eager to grasp the hand of this brilliant 
lawyer. Then Velines, looking at these people, 
placed his hand gently on Henriette's shoulder, 
and said, “My wife should have argued this case. 
She would have done it better than I have; for 
she has far more originality and delicacy. It is 
due to her modesty that I had the opportunity 
to defend Madame Dalton-Fallay." 

Henriette blushed. “I have enough cases to 
argue," she said; “quite enough." 

Fabrezan, shaking his large head in the manner 


The Egotism of Woman 401 

of the famous Largilli^re, spoke with authority: 

Velines, Velines, you have had a superb triumph 
to-day. 

The crowd vanished ; the lawyers went into the 
dressing-room. Madame Dalton-Fallay now asked 
for her lawyers, but they had disappeared. As 
the husband and wife entered the narrow lobby 
reserved for the witnesses, they found themselves 
alone. A dim gas-light flickered, and, as Hen- 
riette descended the dark narrow stairway with 
a hesitating step, she groped for Andre’s hand. 
The Palais de Justice was empty and silent. Only 
two lights remained in the great mysterious en- 
trance-hall. It looked almost like the nave of a 
cathedral. Under cover of this obscurity Andre 
gathered his wife into his arms, and held her in 
a long silent embrace. 

Beneath the dome of her little Pagan Shrine, 
Themis, Goddess of Justice, stood on guard, 
sword in hand. When Andre released his wife, 
Henriette’s eyes glanced at the statue; and the 
goddess’s smile, half-pitying and half scornful, 
seemed bent directly upon this love-conquered 
woman. 


THE EN1> 


A booK wHose man^y* merits maKe it ctvxite 
distinctl>^ a conspicuous volume in current 
fiction.** — The Bookman. 


** A vivid story of a girVs life in South Africa.*’ 

THE CLAW 

A Story of South Africa 

By Cynthia Stockley 

Author of “ Poppy, ** etc. 

From James L. Ford*s long review in the N. Y. Herald: 

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interesting.” 

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With Frontispiece. $1.35 net. {By mail $130) 
New York G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS London 



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Over One Quarter of a Million Copies Sold 

The Rosary 

Popular Edition. Cr. 8vo. $1.35 net. ($1.50 by mail.) 
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Over ISO Thousand Sold 


The Mistress of Shenstone 

Popular Edition. Cr. 8vo, $1.35 net. ($1 .50 by mail.) 
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First Printing 90 Thousand Copie 

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A beautiful Christmas love story, instinct with the 
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New York G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS London 



“Readmg this book is like breathing strong refreshing air.” 

N, Y. Evening Sun. 


Bawbee Jock 

By Amy McLaren 

Author of “ The Yoke of Silence/* etc- 

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charming Highland people a very pretty 
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Fifth Impression. $ / 35 net By mail $ / 30 


G. P. Putnam's Sons, Publishers 



Myrtle Ijeed^s New ^ovel 

A Weaver of 
Dreams 

By the Author of “ Lavender and Old Lace,** ** Old 
Rose and Silver,** etc. 

Myrtle Reed’s new novel is a fasci- 
nating and altogether charming love 
story, full of the most delicate touches 
of fancy and humor, — a book that 
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memory, and one that people will find 
most appropriate as a dainty gift. 

Beautifully printed and bound. Cloth 
$1.50 net. Full Red Leather, $2.00 
net. Antique Calf, $2.50 net 
Lavender Silk, $3.50 net 
(Postage 15 cents) 

Uniform with “ Master of the Vineyard ” 


G. P. Putnam’s Sons 

New York London 



% 





OCT 28 I8t! 


One copy del. to Cat. Div. 


OCT 29 



